Deidara's Happy Story
by thesepeopleareus
Summary: Fan fiction for a fan fiction. Yes, it's confusing, but oh well. Anyway, it involves love triangles, ghosts, suicide, and general confusion along with mass mayhem and widespread panic. Read it anyway? Of course!
1. Deidara's Happy Story

_Do people often write fan-fiction for their own fan-fiction_

_Do people often write fan-fiction for their own fan-fiction? Ah well, this was for my friend Maddie because she secretly fangirls over Deidara (only in stealth) and insists my story should end up something like this. (Normally I wouldn't have given in but it was her birthday.)_

_Except I don't normally writ like this and I'M SORRY IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON BUT THE FIRST PART OF MY STORY IS CRAP! So if you really want to read it it's on my Quizilla account (thesepeopleareus). Maybe once I fix it up I'll post it here._

_So yeah. There's more, but the next two parts are the same scene (basically) but from different perspectives._

_Oh, and Michiko is my OC, in case you couldn't figure that out. She is somewhat of a vampire, she is blind, and she practically grew up with Itachi (must read story to know why)._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_**And some people seem to be warned away by this, the first chapter, so just let me say: This is not what the whole thing is like! If you get really disgusted then don't read this one, read chapter 2, then skip 3 and go on! The rest of the story is **__**FINE**__**!! **(Well, apparently now we have a little blip in chapter 12, but that's about it.)**  
**_

_Oh, and somehow it seems people get the idea that because all these chapters have different names you can just read the ones you feel like. And you can, I guess, but if you do you'll suffer severe confusion because **all the chapters **_**do_ run together as an actual story._**

_That is all._

* * *

Deidara's Happy Story

Michiko's expression went deadpan. "If I understand correctly, you managed, somehow, to lose and regain both your arms during my absence?"

"Yeah…" Deidara mumbled reticently. "But-"

"Boy, you really need FTC, don't you? Isn't that Sasori's job; to make sure you don't hurt yourself?"

Deidara smirked a little and laughed half-heartedly. "I don't get any sleep thanks to Master Sasori. He hardly speaks to me except to gripe about something, he's so friendly with Eris." Deidara groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes, slowly dragging it across his face. "So very friendly," he grumbled. "All night long."

"Eek," Michiko said blandly. "Didn't need to know that."

Deidara realized he had said something wrong when she shivered, almost dropping the knife. Deftly, he reached over and closed her hand back around the blade's handle. "Sorry. Bad subject."

Trying to lighten the mood, he went on. "Yet, at least I was able to keep you from dropping that knife, with my good as new arms!"

Michiko slammed the knife down on the counter and hunched her shoulders. "Except for that patch of skin that looks like it came off of an elephant's butt."

Deidara winced, glared at the back of her head, and ran his fingers forlornly over the ridiculously obvious wrinkles that ruled the skin around his elbow, up until the stitches. She may have been right, but that was an unprovoked attack that rubbed salt and lemon juice in his wounds. "Geez, don't snap at _me_," he muttered sharply at her back. "It's not _my_ fault Itachi's left you bitter."

Michiko's hand twitched back around the knife like a vice; as if one would have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers. "Thank you for that one, Deidara. While you're at it," she whispered cynically, quaking, "why don't you take another stab at my heart? Lance me again!" she roared, turning to make a wide arc with the knife. Her expression twisted into a frightening, wide-eyed grin as she screeched, "I know better than anyone how a little physical pain takes your mind off your troubles!"

Deidara flailed his arms as he backed away in an attempt to avoid the blade whistling past him, but it sliced through the tip of his finger as he retreated.

The pain screamed and throbbed for a moment, eventually subsiding to a dull roar before the blood came hot and fast. He was instinctively putting it to his mouth when Michiko's hand shot out and snatched hold of his wrist, fingernails worming into his skin.

"Wait."

Well, that was rather redundant; he was already waiting, since she still had a dire hold on the knife.

Slowly, cautiously, intently, she pulled his hand away from his mouth and closer to hers before popping his finger past her lips. Michiko let out a fusion of a sigh and a moan of pure ecstasy, drawing the blood out with gentle, repeated sucking motions. Soon after that she let the knife clatter to the floor, wrapping her other hand around his wrist as well.

Deidara was getting chills and heat waves rolling up and down his spine at the feel of her tongue winding around his cut and pulling back, only to return momentarily. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just an acting substitute for Itachi. And, as strange as it seemed, he almost pitied him… Though it could be more accurately described as a long desired but undeserved feeling of superiority.

The guy had never been a livewire to begin with or anything, but he had become - if possible - more distant. Not that Deidara was any judge, but Itachi was getting thinner and increasingly pale, with deep shadows like bruises that made a haunt of his eyes. He ignored everyone and everything, for all practical purposes, seldom speaking at all unless to try croaking out a demand. His expression was gaunt, and he drifted from room to room like a ghost. Every motion translated a soul brimming with pain, as if he remained perpetually just beyond the reach of his former emotionless bliss.

Deidara was still pondering this when Michiko's lips crashed into his.

Needless to say he was… surprised… then confused… then ecstatic. It took him a few seconds to get his feet back under him and start kissing her back.

_Good job_, the voice muttered in approval. _Wonderfully executed_.

Deidara shoved it away. He had been waiting for this, and he was not about to let such a precious opportunity slip through his fingers; for Deidara, relationships were as hard to find as a bar of soap in the bathtub of life, and twice as hard to hold on to. Hence, the voice was ignored and he got back to the more important things in life. For instance, making out with Michiko like one possessed.

She was putting up a ferocious struggle for dominance, almost winning out when her hands ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Yet he did not surrender; he was trying to be more assertive.

Holding her ever more closely, tightly, he slipped his hands just up under her jacket and licked at her waist seductively. He hadn't even noticed that she had been slowly guiding him backwards until his back was to the kitchen counter. She latched onto him and contested his victory by viciously grinding her pelvis into his.

Deidara got a distant, detached feeling that Michiko was trying to outperform him, but that thought didn't survive long. The sensations she created enveloped him in thick folds of rapture.

He utterly failed to bite back a moan, and he felt her smirking in the kiss. That simply would not do. He had as good as waved a white flag, and so he launched one last assault in attempt to claim victory as his own.

Deidara forced his tongue past Michiko's lips, exploring the contours of her mouth. She did not seem to be any warmer on the inside than out, but he enjoyed the rush he got. It was like nothing he ever had before.

He inadvertently grazed his tongue on the tip of one of her fangs. Her saliva stung on the open wound until her tongue zeroed in on his blood and began licking it up in a crazed frenzy. He fought back pathetically, not really wanting her to stop, and lazily opened his eye to a slit.

Itachi stood in the doorway.

Deidara stiffened and froze, glaring at him. Michiko paused, waiting for him to continue, then pushed against his tongue with a frantic note. It could almost be called pleading, even, until she stopped and sniffed the air.

She too bristled at Itachi's sudden appearance, reluctantly pulling her mouth away from his and shooting poisoned daggers at Itachi with her void-black eyes.

Itachi merely stood there, despondently, staring at them with the Sharingan. He wasn't menacing, though; just staring at them like he had passed into the realm where a tortured soul hurts so much it grows numb. He appeared almost fascinated for a moment or two, eyes flicking between them, back and forth, until he faded into a dull, inquiring stare with his head cocked slightly to one side.

Michiko hissed at him in return. When he didn't leave, she moved her arms down to Deidara's back and gripped him tightly, a deep growl welling up from the barrel of her chest. Itachi didn't move, and she snarled at him.

"Mine!"

He started at that, as if waking from a nightmare, looking around feverishly until he faded again and drifted slowly away, not giving them a second glance.

Michiko continued to growl like a demon at the empty doorway, grabbing onto Deidara with increasing ferocity. She stopped when he tilted her head back and kissed her once more.

Once they managed to disentangle themselves several minutes later, Michiko picked up the knife off the floor and stuck it under some running water. Deidara was almost depressed that he was the one panting, until he remembered that Michiko didn't have to breathe anymore. She tried industrially slicing away at the glazed ham that had been intended to go with the now cold fried rice, but stopped after not even a minute.

Deidara hugged her from behind and nuzzled her neck. "This won't impede the progress of your making dinner, will it?" he asked playfully, breathing down her jaw line.

Michiko laughed and turned her head back, taking a moment to run her tongue over his lips.

"Dinner?" she asked softly. "Let's spring for dessert instead."


	2. Deidara's Happy Story Itachi's POV

_Well, here's the next part... from Itachi's perspective!_

_And the last section/scene break was originally written by my friend Maddie (because she thought it was necessary), but I had to edit it slightly and make it fit (like I added the last several paragraphs and such)._

_I know, you don't normally picture him having such a severe reaction, but... Imagine someone is holding a wine glass, and they drop it, and it shatters into tiny fragments, ...and then they step on it._

_Someone:Michiko  
Glass:Itachi_

_Makes it a little more believable now, doesn't it?_

_Oh, and it would probably be helpful if I mentioned the fact that Michiko and Itachi retain a mental connection through which they communicate? It's because of the blood-sucking thing... just a tad complicated..._

_And yes, Michiko has a little demon voice inside her head named Jurag, because she is half bat-demon, on her father's side. (I gave Deidara a voice, but that's just because he's borderline insane. He actually has two, but one beats the crap out of the other, so it hardly makes an appearance...)_

* * *

Deidara's Happy Story- Itachi's POV

Itachi drifted past room after room, aimlessly wandering the halls of the base. There might have been other people around as well, but he sure as hells didn't notice them; he was too preoccupied. Lost in the labyrinth of his Memory Palace, wandering just as ineffectually as he was in the real world.

He had taken great care in constructing his Memory Palace; cataloguing everything he could in neat rows of storage, creating vivid images. The Palace was one of his favorite accomplishments, and he loved stopping by for visits, just to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Itachi's favorite part of it, though, was that he could see everything in sharp detail; no blurs or smudges or fuzzy edges. Everything was clear as the midday sun.

He passed by the room dedicated to remembering peoples' names. It wasn't really much of a room, due to the fact that he didn't know many people. Maybe twenty-five picture frames dotted the walls, containing peoples' faces in clear focus beside shelves with little objects to help him remember the symbolism of their names.

Itachi went right by it, passing rooms for remembering everything from where things got put to people whose lives he had brought to an early close. That had been a room worth extending; it was getting rather crowded. It was really just a room filled with the names of everyone he had ever murdered - though some of them had methods to go along with them if they had been particularly interesting – but Michiko didn't like to think of him as a murderer.

Stricken by the thought, Itachi drifted out of the room with a hobbled spirit. _Well, she_ used _to,_ he thought morosely. _She probably doesn't give a rat's ass now._

At least they had finally managed to kill Osanai. After all that trouble in The Land of Lightning, though, the wounds just hadn't healed up properly. The two of them had ripped apart at the seam with a tear too shredded and frayed to be sewn back together.

Itachi looked up and found himself in the newest room of his Palace. It was dedicated to remembering everything about Michiko, and was the most lushly decorated room by far. Deep crimson and midnight black cascaded from the walls and came to rest in piles on the floor, creating bounding waves of drapery and cushions that flowed across the room and made a beautiful carpet. Still, Itachi bypassed everything else and dragged his feet across the floor to the far wall, covered with snapshots of memories of the two of them together.

The Leaf's forest, The Compound, The Academy, the base, the woods, her room, his room, their room, the lake, the rooftop, the inn…

Itachi warmed up a little on the inside, smiling for the first time since they had returned from The Land of Lightning. The feelings and motions washed over him like a spring shower, rubbing some semblance of life back into his abandoned heart. Michiko's words then had killed him, withering his soul. But now; _now _he had hope.

He bid goodbye to his Memory Palace and drifted with a little more purpose through the base, seeking Michiko. Or even just a sign of her; a whisper, a scent… a feeling. Itachi stopped when he heard her, allowing someone to slam into him from behind. He focused on the sound of her voice playing in his head and ignored the harsh sounds of someone cussing him out, drifting toward the kitchen.

_She'll be in there…_

He ignored the fact that she was in conversation with another voice, focusing instead on how to broach the subject with her. Surely she wasn't still miffed at him, right? After all, he hadn't really done anything _bad_. Michiko just… didn't appreciate his wish to shield her from seriously painful situations. He could fix that, for her; he could step away completely and give her some wiggle room. He was fine with wiggle room. Now, to ask her…

Itachi rounded the corner with the question newly formed in his mind. He stepped into the doorway and opened his mouth - and froze, the words dying on his lips.

Michiko and Deidara were locked together like two pieces of a two-piece puzzle. …A very… _inappropriate_ puzzle. He was dying allover again, deteriorating, frozen to the spot as they carried on unaware of his presence.

Michiko's hands were working their way up to the back of Deidara's head and _he_ pulled her closer by the waist with his own hands. Itachi knew full well what those hands were capable of, and he would have shuddered if he hadn't been completely and utterly absorbed with morbid fascination while he watched them get carried _way_ away, pressed together too tightly, no space left between them.

After an eternity of observing and listening to the strange little grunting noises they made, Deidara slitted one eye open and spotted him, stopping to glare at him viciously. Itachi ignored him and waited for Michiko to notice that Deidara wasn't participating any longer and glare at him as well. She did.

'You…' he began, trailing off as he lost the initiative. 'I…'

Michiko sent him a little smoldering silence thought _without_ her eyes. _With_ them, she was mentally beating him; he could tell.

'Would you even care… if I-?' he asked slowly, staring at her blankly before she he was cut off.

Michiko didn't even give him any time to finish his question, let alone consider it. She clung to Deidara tighter and hissed at him. 'No. Why don't you do everyone a favor and go stab yourself or something? Nobody wants you around, you mind-rapist!'

'You wouldn't care if I… died…? Right now?' he asked brokenly, trying to ring out his last surviving glimmer of hope for all it was worth.

He barely noticed her shake her head slightly; he didn't think even Deidara noticed it, and for gods' sakes she was wrapped around him like a stripe on a candy cane. And she moved her arms down Deidara's back and clutched at him again, growling at Itachi mentally. '_Never. __**This**__ one is mine now, not __**you**__. Do you understand? This is-'_ she slipped back into normal speech when she snarled "-mine!"

He crumpled up inside at that, felt his heart stutter for a beat, just watching them hold each other protectively; possessively. Michiko's debasement had broken Itachi out of his private universe of pain, and he looked around frantically for a moment, hoping he had been wrong and the entire experience was a nightmare. He arrived at the sad realization that everything he had just witnessed was real, and drifted away, not looking back at them again.

Itachi left the base, walking into the frigid night air, not bothering to grab his cloak. The icy chill felt good; it felt real. He missed the ability to feel anything. All that was left of him was the empty frame of a broken mirror, the glass scattered throughout his soul. No, his _soul_ was shattered, and there was no way to see the human, caring part of him anymore. He had always been able to see that part of himself in her; with the love and infatuation he had for her.

He let his mind drift, jumping from thought to thought without concentrating. He wouldn't let himself concentrate. Concentrating meant reflecting, and reflecting meant remembering. He didn't want to remember. To remember the way they embraced in the kitchen (Ha! As if "embraced" was an adequate description!). The tenderness and warmth of _his_ arms around her; the way he himself had once held her, afraid to let her go…

Itachi winced, cursing himself mentally for uprooting the sickening memories and bringing on a fresh wave of pain. He increased his speed, now darting through the trees in the dark, relying on his other senses to navigate through the forest. But in the black one's imagination is all the more powerful, using the cloak of night as a blank canvas.

The image jumped to the forefront of his mind unbidden. In remembrance the picture was clearer, details coming into sharp focus under the mind's power to fill in the blanks. …And he still could not tell where Deidara stopped and Michiko began.

Wind whipped cruelly into his face as he ran faster and faster, but he kept his ruby eyes open, glaring obstinately into the empty void. The air whistling past stung his eyes and made them water, sending a trickle of tears down his face.

Itachi chuckled bitterly, the sound catching in his throat, lost to the night as he ran ever more quickly. He hadn't cried in so many years, the idea seemed absurd to him. He hadn't cried since the night Michiko died…

She was dead to him. Beyond his reach. And he was dead to her… or at least she wished it were so.

What did she want from him? What had she wanted him to do? Sell his soul or something? He would have, too, if that were what it took to make her happy. The problem was that he did not seem to be capable of making her happy.

_Maybe she was right…_

Deidara appeared to make her perfectly happy, though.

_She was right… _He stopped dead in his tracks at the realization and deliberated for a moment before sitting snuggly by the base of a tree with overbearing roots, enough so to keep him hidden from view.

Itachi reached up and back, unsheathing his katana with a slight ring…


	3. Deidara's Happy Story Michiko's POV

_ And finally, the motive behind this entire incident... Michiko's POV!_

_Yeah. I think you know what this is by now._

* * *

Deidara's Happy Story- Michiko's POV

Michiko's expression went deadpan. "If I understand correctly, you managed, somehow, to lose and regain both your arms during my absence?"

"Yeah…" Deidara mumbled. "But-"

"Boy, you really need FTC, don't you? Isn't that Sasori's job; to make sure you don't hurt yourself?" she added, chuckling under her breath at the idea. _Sasori? Helping Deidara? Ha!_

Deidara smirked a little and laughed half-heartedly. "I don't get any sleep thanks to Master Sasori. He hardly speaks to me except to gripe about something, he's so friendly with Eris." Deidara groaned and dragged a hand across his face. "So very friendly," he grumbled. "All night long."

"Eek," Michiko said blandly. "Didn't need to know that." She had no wish to know the intimacies of someone else's life; they reminded her too much of the ones she used to have. _With Itachi_… She shivered at the memory, almost dropping the knife. It probably would have landed point down in her foot, but that didn't matter anyway because she was dead. And because Deidara caught her hand up in his larger one before it left her palm.

"Sorry," he said sincerely. "Bad subject."

Michiko paused, standing perfectly still with his hand remaining on hers. She almost allowed a brief smile to flit across her face as a thought ran through her mind, slowing until the next bit was thought up.

_Itachi's hands… never felt this warm…_

"Yet, at least I was able to keep you from dropping that knife with my good as new arms!" Deidara crowed cheerfully.

Maybe he was trying to help, but he had completely ruined that moment of bliss she experienced. Not only that, but he also sounded just like his old, annoying, immature self. "Except for that patch of skin that looks like it came off of an elephant's butt," she shot back after she slapped the knife onto the counter, really just aiming to injure his joy. Maybe his attitude could just be contributed to his childish disposition, and he really just needed a snap back into reality…

"Geez, don't snap at _me_," he muttered sharply. "It's not _my_ fault Itachi's left you bitter."

Michiko winced at the teeth of his words, curling her fingers back around the knife handle. They gnawed at her mind and nipped her sad excuse for a heart around the edges. A few particularly vicious words ate all the way to her core:

…_Itachi's left you…_

"Thank you for that one, Deidara," she breathed before her dysfunctional tear ducts could kick in. "While you're at it, why don't you take another stab at my heart?" She was so used to talking to Itachi she slipped into thoughts without realizing it. 'You're on a roll, now.' "Lance me again!" she challenged, swinging the knife in front of her. "I know better than anyone how a little physical pain can take your mind off your troubles!"

Her mind flashed to her wrists for a second before she focused back on Deidara as he tried and failed to avoid the cold steel slicing the air in front of him. The first thing Michiko noticed was the smell of blood. Then the sound of it pulsing out the tip of Deidara's finger, the tang of it in the air. The feeling of food in front of her.

Deidara tried to steal it away from her by sucking on his wound himself, but she had a hold of his wrist before she remembered what she was about to do. "Wait," she ordered solemnly, taking control of the situation. He didn't make a move, so she figured he was complying and stuck the tip of his finger in her mouth.

She released the excess air in her lungs in a sigh of gratification when the taste of the blood hit her taste buds and leaked down her throat. Not long after the blood flow slowed, so she began drawing it out with strategic pressuring from her tongue.

He tasted _so_ good. And he smelled completely enraptured. Michiko needed a compliant person to feed her every once in a while; Itachi had refused because Eris said it was unhealthy, but Deidara wouldn't tell anyone. Deidara still liked her, as improbable as that first seemed, and he wanted her to be content with him. Now she just needed to keep it that way. She needed to be sure he would not stop short of selling his soul to please her. …What would make Deidara want to keep her happy…?

Smirking on the inside, Michiko rushed forward and kissed him.

Deidara seemed flabbergasted for a few moments before he got his head back out of the clouds and screwed on tight enough to start kissing her back. He picked up momentum as he went, getting into it a little more quickly than she had first surmised. She let her hands roam up his back and over the hot skin of his neck into the roots of his hair.

He convulsed slightly before pulling her closer and bending her backwards slightly, pushing down on her. She shivered at the sudden wet on her skin, startled by the feel of his other mouths kissing at her waist. At least she was keeping him interested, though she hadn't expected _that_. A little light bulb was turned on inside her head and she started to push him back toward the kitchen counter, distracting him from the movement with the ferocity of the kiss. Once he stopped moving back she braced for the move that would seal the event and ground herself into him, seriously enjoying the moan she forced from his lips.

Michiko's eyes flew open when Deidara broke past her lips and allowed his tongue to wander around her mouth. She relaxed at the comfortable feel of it and let her eyes close again, intertwining with him until he nicked his tongue on her left fang. She smiled and started to lick it up as it pulsed out of his tongue, trying some more pressure when the wound began to heal. He was still squirming a little, but he had more or less surrendered. Michiko enjoyed her victory until Deidara froze, turning from a rosy shade of burnished red to deep, deep black.

She paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she prodded his tongue with hers, trying to revive him. Deidara refused to move, and Michiko felt instinctively that something was wrong. She took a couple short sniffs and stiffened herself, pulling away from Deidara slightly and glaring fire and daggers at Itachi, standing in the doorway.

He was watching her; she could feel it. Michiko was about to tell him off when she was interrupted by a small pleading thought.

'You… I…'

She projected a stony silence in return, imagining what it would feel like to beat the living daylights out of him right then. Itachi was just an annoying interruption that needed to be quashed.

'Would you even care… if I-?' he asked slowly, staring at her blankly before she he was cut off.

Michiko didn't even give him any time to finish his question, let alone consider it. She clung to Deidara tighter and hissed at him. 'No. Why don't you do everyone a favor and go stab yourself or something? Nobody wants you around, you mind-rapist!'

'You _wouldn't_ care if I… _died_…? Right now?' he thought brokenly, a pitiful amount of pathetic hope seeping into his tone.

Michiko shook her head slightly at him, taking care that Deidara wouldn't notice the mute conversation between them. Itachi still didn't leave, so she heated up the aggravation. She clutched at Deidara again and mentally snarled at Itachi.

'_Never. __**This**__ one is mine now, not __**you**__. Do you understand? This is-'_ she slipped back into normal speech when she snarled "-mine!"

Michiko had not one thought of regret or a feeling that she had gone to far, even when Itachi's heart skipped a few beats, spluttering in his chest. He acted like had just woken up from a horrible nightmare, and, unable to describe the horrors he witnessed, faded back to his normal vapid expression of suffering and drifted away.

She continued to growl after him, though; mentally and physically, just in case Itachi revived some hope in his mind. Until Deidara's fingers traced up the side of her face and tilted her head back so he could kiss her again. Pleased that she was not the instigator and that she most likely had Deidara on a leash now, she melted into him and returned the favor for a few minutes before she had a distant memory of a duty to make dinner.

She broke away reluctantly and tried slicing up the ham for a few minutes until she was consumed by a hollow, unfulfilled ache settling into her limbs. The feeling was alleviated when she got a pleasant shiver courtesy Deidara wrapping his arms loosely around her waist from behind and breathing heavily down her jaw line.

"This won't impede the progress of your making dinner, will it?" he asked impishly.

Michiko chuckled and took a moment to tease his lips with the tip of her tongue before replying:

"Dinner? Let's spring for dessert instead."


	4. Sasori's Happy Story

_Yeah, here's the next one. Eris is an OC, too. She's the Goddess of Chaos and Destruction, but the other gods banished her to earth (for doing what she does best) and she ended up bound to the forest in which the Akatsuki's base is situated. Go figure. She and Sasori sort of clicked, seeing as they're both immortal (supposedly). (There's is more of a physical relationship since neither are very capable of tender affection.) And yes, technically he should be dead by now if Deidara already has his arms back, but for the sake of this little spin-off he's still alive. (Actually it's a bit more complicated than that, but the full story involves Eris' brother, Ripowal, the God of Death, and it's a bit too confusing to be explained right here, right now...)  
_

* * *

The Happy Story that Sasori Stole from Dei

"Please deign to tell me once again exactly why Iam out here with you when I have so many other, much more important activities in which I could be investing my time," Sasori asked with acid civility, choosing not to attempt keeping pace with Michiko's longer strides. His voice was almost lost to the wind and snow shooting past them horizontally.

"How should _I_ know?" she snapped back at him. "Maybe the Leader hates me. Maybe he hates us both and only hopes we'll end up killing each other before we finish this, this stupid job." With that she turned forward once more and angled herself steeply against the wind, aiming for the thick trees at the edge of the clearing that surrounded the base.

Sasori hop-skipped directly behind her and effectively reduced the drag pulling desperately at the loose folds of his cloak. "Maybe it is because I'm the only other member who is completely immune to the cold," he muttered loudly over the howl of the wind, hunching his shoulders and allowing it to send blobs of snow right over his head. "Or _may_be it's because we're both rather, mm, immortal, so it does not matter how long we're out here looking. Besides; I seem to be one of the few members who don't give a damn about you," he added quietly, narrowing his eyes. "Coincidentally, Michiko," he went on in a more conversational tone, "do you even know the meaning of the word 'rhetorical'?"

She told him exactly where he could shove the meaning of the word 'rhetorical'.

Sasori smirked slightly, the first thing with the semblance of a smile on his face since Sir Leader had decided the safest precaution would be moving away from the forest entirely when Itachi and Michiko had taken such a ridiculously long time to find and dispose of Osanai. Sir Leader had not cared that Eris was bound to the forest and therefore could not come with them. Sasori was glad they were finally back, even though Eris had not yet made her presence known again.

In fact, there had been some grand "returning" dinner thing planned that Michiko had got landed with, but that meal had never fully materialized. Probably because Deidara had taken it upon himself to assist Michiko; he was horrible whenever food came into the picture. Not to mention Deidara was liable to get sidetracked and somehow divert peoples' attention from what they were trying so hard to get done.

That had been several days ago. And now he was stuck outside with this leech.

Sasori laughed silently as the image of how he had last seen Deidara suddenly floated into his head; distressed and torn between his hatred for the cold and his desire to follow Michiko like a love struck shadow. It made Sasori wonder exactly _how_ Deidara had kept Michiko from making dinner…

After what seemed like far too long for Sasori's liking they broke into the limited cover offered by the first layer of trees, giving him the opportunity to brush off the increasingly tall pile of snow gathering on top of his head with his already soaked, tumescent fingers. Michiko straightened rigidly, strode away and asked what was taking his lazy ass so long to catch up.

Not dignifying her suck-ish attitude with a response, Sasori followed at his own leisurely pace, waving his hands as discreetly as possible through the air in an attempt to dry them out. "I don't see why we have to be out here anyway," he grumbled, as much to fill the silence as anything else; Deidara usually filled the silence for him, against his wishes. "Itachi's a big boy now; he can take care of himself. It's not _our_ fault he just up and left. Besides, there's no way he'd hang around out here with weather like this to bite at him. He didn't even take his cloak."

At the silence he received, Sasori grouched again for a while, put out by the fact that Michiko didn't respond; Deidara at least argued back. Then, a thought struck him like a brick to the head. "It _isn't_ any of our faults that he left…. Right, Michiko?" he asked slowly, prodding her to respond with his choice of words.

After a brief pause Michiko snapped at him again; she really needed to do something about that. "Of _course_ it's not any of our faults; if Itachi wants to leave, that's his choice and his alone. He's big enough to decide for himself what he does. It's not _anyone's_ fault but his own what he ends up doing."

_She's jumped straight to the defensive_, Sasori thought wryly. _She did something…_ And then another thought tried to hit him, but he was on his guard this time and ducked to avoid the brick flying overhead. _Something in the kitchen_.

_Something with _Deidara.

Still, not wanting to get his head bitten off, Sasori kept these ideas to himself and stewed over what Michiko (plus Deidara) could have possibly done that would goad Itachi out of his slump and into action. He did not have to think at it very long.

He then occupied the time peering ahead through the thinning snowfall for any sign of Itachi - which was totally ridiculous, according to both parties - by wondering how Itachi possibly could have reacted. Obviously he hadn't killed them both like Sasori would have assumed, but recently Itachi had reminded him more of a rabid jellyfish than anything else, anyways. Itachi had run off. He had run off like a child with no one to comfort him.

Sasori felt a pang in his head and winced, suffering a brief memory a small child with no parents to love him.

Sasori was no longer even trying to look for the Itachi that undoubtedly would not be there and had stopped paying attention to where he was going, bumping into Michiko. "And you're the one calling _me _slow," he muttered ungraciously, scrabbling away from her unmoving form.

It took him several moments to realize that she was staring at something. He dusted some more snow off his cloak and walked around her through the half-foot layer of snow, not noticing the least bit of irony in the situation when he froze just as completely as Michiko.

They had found Itachi.

Now, Sasori was no expert, but he didn't need Zetsu to tell him that that shade of purple was unhealthy.

If it weren't for Itachi's stark black hair and the purpling tips of his fingers (which Sasori noticed appeared eerily similar to the color of his nail polish) they might have missed him entirely; his skin was the color of the snow beginning to pile around him. Michiko had almost tripped, it seemed, over one of the large roots of the tree at whose base he was sitting, and then again over the katana hilt sticking out of his chest. A copious amount of blood had leaked out of the deep wound before freezing a dark, rusty stain onto the front of Itachi's grey-blue shirt, also leaving some on the hilt of the blade he had always carried.

Sasori leaned to one side and dispassionately looked again from a different angle; he could see Itachi's katana had gone straight through him and been lodged deeply into the tree trunk with considerable force; hardly a sliver of the blade was visible. Itachi had slumped forward ever so slightly but not fallen over because the hilt caught him, too big to fit back through the vertical hole in his chest.

Itachi looked almost normal, with one of his paper-white hands resting precariously on the hilt of the sword driven through him, the other hanging limply at his side, slightly bent and buried in snow. His elbow rested at a relaxed angle on one of his knees, which were both drawn up near his chest. He could have been pondering something except for the expression on his face; one of fanatical… smugness… and something like… _satisfaction_. The lopsided grin looked terribly out of place on his face, like it should be the main attraction in a museum for the paranormal things that make shivers slither up your spine and seep into your mind.

The lack of any life in Itachi's flat, cold eyes did not come as much of a surprise to Sasori. He remembered Itachi's eyes _always_ looking dead and lifeless. Although, Sasori did notice that there was something else completely looming behind them; pain. And not a physical pain, either; more of a _soul_ pain. The kind of pain that eats away your core.

Sasori tore his own half-closed eyes away from the scene and glanced up at Michiko warily to find she hadn't moved since the sighting. Her face was as frozen as the landscape around them; frozen into a crooked smile frightfully identical to the one pasted on Itachi. He heard the slight, breezy laughs blowing past her lips, disturbing him _and_ the fall of light snowflakes drifting listlessly toward the ground. He cocked his head to one side and took a step back when the laughter grew louder, worrying that the demon/girl/bat/vampire/thing had finally snapped.

However, Sasori was not so far gone that his powers of observation had deserted him - indeed, his powers of observation might as well have never _existed_ he was so absorbed. Something small alighted on his shoulder briefly, startling him, before he looked up. He watched curiously as the midnight magpie flapped up to the high branch of a nearby tree and landed with a flutter of its wings. There was nothing small, however, about the wolf-sized black cat suddenly glaring down at him from the treetop where the magpie had previously perched, which leapt gracefully down onto the gradually thickening layer of snow without making a sound.

It growled deeply at him and stole forward on padded paws, but stopped when he shook his head and gestured at Michiko, who by now was laughing harder than Sasori had ever heard before and splitting her face in a wild grin, mussing up Itachi's hair before laughing again.

Eris stood… floated… before him with her arms crossed and a dark look. Casting an odd look at Michiko over her shoulder first, she then floated a ways away, beckoning him to follow. Follow Sasori did, and when Eris finally stopped and turned to face him he opened his mouth.

"No," Eris ordered. "Don't say a word. I need a favor from you."

Wary, Sasori watched as she floated closer to him and turned again, glowering at him over her shoulder. "Would you take the knife out of my back?" she sneered.

After a moment Sasori realized Eris was referring to something he had done. "I didn't do anything-" he started.

"Why did you leave?" Eris demanded imperiously. "I _told_ you I could not come with you, and you left anyway!" She was whispering viciously so as not to disturb Michiko, whose raucous laughter was distinguishable even from a distance, but Sasori could hear the hurt in her tone.

"We settled this before I left," he insisted, not unkindly. "I even told you about the possibility that we would _never_ be back, and you accepted it. And Sir Leader wasn't too happy about the dents left in the floor."

A small smile flashed across Eris' face before she resumed her expression of wounded anger. "_I_ was happy about the dents in the floor. So were you, as I recall," she added slyly.

"Yes," Sasori sighed. "That was good. That was _really good_. …But that's not the point!" he continued, shaking his head to wake himself from his dreamlike state of remembrance of the last night they spent together.

"Oh?" Eris replied archly, anger seeping back into her tone quickly. "And what is?"

Sasori reached out for her slowly with one hand, and she fumbled at the gesture before stretching to grasp it in her own hand. He pulled her closer, and while her attention was diverted swept his other arm around her kissed her before she had time react. Her arm was curled between them, but still she compulsively tightened her grip on his hand. Just when she was warming to it, he released her and pulled away.

"The point is that I missed you," he stated bluntly. "And I need you. And I do not want to be separated from you ever, ever again."

Eris' expression flickered briefly, as if unsure how to take this news. It wasn't really news; he was sure she had known that all along. His mistake had been not saying so.

"I'll have to incarcerate you for that one," Eris informed him over a light chuckle.

"For what?" Sasori asked with a wary smile.

"For stealing the words right out of my mouth," she replied, dead serious now. "And I am going to steal them back." And Eris set her mouth against his, as softly as the flutter of moth wings, quietly opening and closing against his lips.

Sasori got a little lost in the moment that followed, if something so prolonged could be called a moment. After gods know how long he noticed that he could no longer hear a sign of Michiko's guffaws. "Crap," he muttered, his voice coming out muffled through two pairs of lips. Catching hold of Eris' hand again, he dragged her along quickly as fast as possible through the deepening snow back to where they had left Michiko.

"Why are we going back there?" she asked testily, as if interrupted in the middle of something important. "It's not like Michiko can't take care of herself."  
"Yes, but if she does something stupid Deidara is going to go into withdrawal and Sir Leader will blame me for sure."

"Oh."

Eris floated up higher and lifted Sasori up until he barely touched the snow when he relaxed his feet. "That works too, I suppose…" he muttered reluctantly.

"Unless you have a better way to avoid the snow, you baby, I suggest you enjoy the ride while you can."

"What…?" he asked suspiciously, glancing up at her. Eris was leering back down at him, and before he got the opportunity to ask why she was eyeing him so mischievously she promptly let go of his hand.

Sasori didn't fall very far, and the snow cushioned the impact, but he got nearly buried. When he finally emerged he was newly waterlogged from the melting snow, making his cloak cling to him like a fearful child to parent. He found Eris smirking victoriously from halfway up a tree, and was about to snap at her when he finally recognized where she had dropped him.

They had arrived back at the scene of Itachi's suicide, but Sasori was unable to see Michiko at first. After a brief search of the area he relocated Itachi and was about to search for Michiko from there he noticed the new hollow in the snow around Itachi. Slogging closer through the snow, he peered portentously into the cavity. And he found her.

Michiko was sitting with her legs curled up to her chest and her back to Itachi's corpse, leaning against him slightly to the right of the sword in his chest. She held Itachi's hands and used them to keep his arms hugged around her knees, a sad, sad smile on her face.

"I know," she whispered warmly, tilting her head so she could give Itachi a kiss on his pale, dead lips before snuggling closer to him. "I love you, too."

Sasori's thought were crippled by another memory flashing through his mind of the same small child, being hugged by the shells of his former parents in an attempt to feel loved like the other children.

Before he recovered Eris had drifted over to Michiko and laid her hand gently on the delusional girl's arm. Michiko's head lolled slightly, and Eris rolled her prone form up onto her back and turned back into a black cat that could probably fright a bear not only with its size but also its expansive, leathery wings, Michiko asleep, curled, on her back. Sasori leaned against Eris' high shoulder for a few moments, holding his head in his hand until the panging stopped.

They began walking back together until they eventually reached the edge of the clearing that surrounded the base and Sasori was confronted with a wall of snow at least as tall as himself. He stared at it blankly for a few moments and turned to Eris when he noticed with a shock the she had simply increased her size and continued through the snow. He hurried to catch up and grabbed hold of her silky tail, asking her to stop.

"You wouldn't mind if I hitched a ride with you, too, would you?" he asked wryly.

Eris leered at him again and replied, "Like you've ever needed to ask for permission to ride me before."

Sasori grinned and poofed onto the furry expanse of Eris' back as she plodded through the snow at a gracefully languorous pace; Eris was back. His elevated mood was disrupted when Michiko twitched in her induced sleep and muttered something obviously meant for someone else.

He did not look forward to telling Sir Leader about Itachi.


	5. Kisame's Happy Story

_ So. Kisame's POV. Yup._

_Maddie is technically an OC, but of course I based her off my dear, dear friend. You see, she has her own story, in which she tortures me to no end, so I had to put her in mine. By this point she is dead, because Eris got fed up and killed her. She has a nasty tendency to run her mouth, Itachi hates her, and she has ribbons instead of fingers, which we call "fribbons"._

_And just to avoid confusion, when Zetsu talks in italics or not it indicates which personality is talking._

* * *

And Now Kisame Tries to Muscle in on the Happy Story

"I don't understand it, yeah!" Deidara wailed morosely, flapping the knife through the air. "I _used_ to be able to cook just _fine!_"

Kisame heard him from out in the hall, but he did not even try to imagine Deidara actually being good at the process of making meals; it just didn't seem right. As far as he was concerned, Deidara didn't do anything right - at least, that was the mantra Itachi advocated. Although, maybe it wasn't entirely true, because _some_thing certainly smelled heavenly.

Led into the room by the nose that dragged him along of its own volition, Kisame treaded carefully over to the tray sitting provocatively and unguarded on the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. There appeared to be a massive amount of some sort of meat patties cooling, and since Deidara was holding his forehead in one hand and muttering to himself, Kisame figured they were free to whoever could take one up without being noticed.

The one he plucked off the small mountain was still hot, so he blew on it quietly and wolfed it down before Deidara could possibly object. Despite his initial worries, seeing how _Deidara _was the one who had made it,Kisame found that it actually tasted… great.

"Hey, Deidara," Kisame hailed conversationally, reaching for another slab of meat, "it looks like you're not a total waste after all; these things are pretty good."

Deidara twitched and glared at him murderously, a strange and evil-looking glint in his eye. "_I did not make those_," he growled, clutching at the knife like it was the only thing that tethered him to the sane world.

"Oh. Sorry," Kisame murmured. "… Then who did?" At this point he was really just trying to fill up the dark and threatening silence building up like a terrible storm.

"How the hells should I know? They were sitting there when I walked in, yeah."

And that was it. Nothing else was coming from Deidara, so Kisame shrugged and was about to bite into his second when a scornful voice interrupted him with his hand halfway to his mouth.

"Those are mine," Zetsu sneered from the door. "_Yeah, mine!_"

Kisame froze, eyeing him suspiciously. "Really? It's real tasty. I didn't know you could even cook, Zetsu."

"_You actually _like_ it?_ Well, that's probably because I rarely get the opportunity to bring back a fairly fresh corpse."

Kisame gagged, unconsciously hurling the traitorous meat from him. "Are you serious?" he wheezed. "And I actually _enjoyed_ that?"

"_It's not really all that bad, is it?_ And I will thank you not to take any more, no matter how much you enjoyed them."

Zetsu loomed over and swept the tray off the counter, muttering to himself - quite literally - as he glided away about the deplorable condition of the world when you couldn't even leave your flesh patties out to cool without someone helping themselves.

Kisame tried wiping the taste out of his mouth with his fingers, but it didn't help that much; now the taste of human flesh _and_ his own skin lingered in his mouth.

"It's funny how when you have a preconception of how something tastes you _know_ it tastes horrible no matter how much you actually like it, isn't it?" Deidara sneered pointedly, curling his lip back at Kisame.

"Thuyup, Gheyawa," Kisame snapped, trying to find something with which to erase the taste in his mouth. Spotting a bottle on the counter, he scooped it up and stole a large swig before he even knew what he was drinking.

"And _now_ you've nearly emptied my bottle of cooking alcohol, yeah. _Thank you._"

"Augh!"

Deidara was spitefully blocking the faucet from Kisame's reach, and the first thing that occurred to Kisame was to speed out to the bathroom and stick his mouth directly under the cool water. The stream that glided over his tongue smoothly and soothed the foul tastes burning his mouth. Wiping off the droplets loitering at the corners of his mouth with the end of his sleeve, Kisame trudged back to through the kitchen on his way to the main hall, where he would undoubtedly wait purposelessly for something interesting to happen.

"And he returns like a plague to wreak havoc upon the kitchen," Deidara muttered loudly, slicing with renewed vigor at something that looked suspiciously like cucumber.

"Pipe down, you little mutant."

"Oh, yes, that's right; I forgot that _every_one these days looks like the missing link between man and fish."

Kisame felt his temper flare before he turned and snapped his hand around Deidara's neck, shoving him up against a stretch of bare wall.

"I've had it up to here with your quips," he snapped, subconsciously gnashing his teeth. "You've _always_ been a pest, but I have to admit you've really outdone yourself this time." He punctuated his words by putting more force behind his hand and repeatedly slamming Deidara into the wall.

Deidara hardly even reacted. He certainly didn't even quiver - if anything he looked _smug_. "Thank you; I try, yeah. And now, if you could so kindly release me, I could proceed with make myself some dinner," he added, pulling at Kisame's fingers with both hands.

"You really think it's that easy, don't you?" Kisame marveled.

"Yeah," Deidara replied. And that was when he bit Kisame's hand,

"Ech!" Kisame whipped back his hand and examined the tiny teeth marks on his hand. He wiped it off on Deidara's cloak and looked up at him oddly. "That's really disgusting."

Deidara seemed about to wretch. "You _taste_ disgusting," he retorted, bending over the sink like he was about sick up. He shuddered several times and gave a few dry heaves before he sighed dramatically and relaxed against the counter.

"I'm _so _sorry," Kisame said with venomous courtesy, observing curiously while Deidara held his hands under the faucet and gargled the water for a minute before spitting it out. "We can't _all_ be perfect, you know."

"I have come reluctantly to grips with that fact, Kisame." Deidara dried off his hands on a handy towel. "I'm sure that must have come as such a blow to you."

"You know what? I think we should just stop," Kisame suggested wearily. "I think you're so used to having Sasori around to scrap with you've started taking it out on everyone else. Namely, me."

To Kisame's surprise, Deidara actually looked like he was mulling it over.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, "but you must remember that we're both short a partner here, and _your_ partner is the one who ran off for no apparent reason, whereas _my_ partner has been sent to fetch _your_ partner back again."

Kisame felt the flaring again. "I don't know what the hells is your problem, Deidara - although I can surmise there is more than one - but you need to stop. _Now_. Leader's going to be really pissed when I kill you."

"You don't have the _guts_," Deidara stated frankly, flirting with disaster. "You're too afraid of the repercussions."

"True," Kisame admitted, holding his chin in his hand, "but why don't you try not being so sore about getting left behind while Michiko partners up with _Sasori _to go find_ Itachi_."

Deidara gave no sign that this disturbed in the slightest, turning back to his cutting board, picking up the knife, and violently dicing the squash lying there, defenseless. "Well, the logic behind it makes sense; neither of them are bothered by the cold." He paused to scrape the squash into a small bowl. "But in reality Sir Leader thinks that Michiko is more likely to find Itachi than the rest of us_ because they __**lu-urve**_ each other," he explained bitterly, attacking the ham.

"You say that like you have evidence to refute it."

Deidara's scowl darkened and he muttered something that sounded an awful lot like, "Of course." He proceeded to stab the meat repeatedly, mutilating it beyond recovery.

"Jeez, take it easy there -"

"Iwill_not_takeiteasyyouhave_no_ideawhatI'mtalkingaboutorwhatit'slikesojustshutupandleavemealoneyoublasted_skulk!_"

Tension hung in the air to go along with Deidara's expression of bent and twisted fury. Kisame was about to turn and leave Deidara alone with his issues when there was a heavy knocking - more of a pounding, really - at the door, and moments later it burst open and hit the wall with enough force to begin slamming shut again until Sasori straight-armed it.

The snow still swirled around powerfully and escaped the outdoors; a few adventurous squalls forced their way through the main hall and straight into the kitchen, which sent Deidara shivering.

"C-c-cold," he muttered gruffly. "'S not s-supposed to b-b-b-be this c-c-_cold._"

Kisame could not quite describe it later when he tried recalling the scene, but when Deidara realized who had to be there he transformed completely. He warmed and opened up like a flower (and Kisame tried not to think of the word "gamboled", because it did not befit an Akatsuki member, but that's the only word that captured the way Deidara skipped and flounced playfully over to the door).

Kisame followed somewhat close behind, arriving in the main hall just before Eris slammed the door shut behind herself and Sasori, who managed to carry Michiko in between them. Deidara paused at the sight and hung back a moment before he assessed the situation and swung off his cloak, wrapping it around Michiko and taking her up in his arms.

"What happened, yeah?" he asked, suddenly all business-like, as if he hadn't just been as plastered as a puppy when its master comes home after the first separation.

Sasori tried to respond, but Deidara cut him off.

"Never mind; she's _really_ cold. Did you leave her out to chill in a drift or something?"

"She's always cold, Deidara."

A few of the other members began to filter into the hall at this point, wondering what the commotion was about.

"Not _this_ cold, yeah."

"And you have a reliable reference more Michiko's body temperature, do you, brat?"

"Of course I do," he replied indignantly. "Myself." And Deidara swept out of the room with Michiko curled like a rag doll against his chest.

The others were mute a few minutes, looking at each other silently, trying to piece together what they had missed. However, Kisame was the first to make some sense of it all.

"Deidara talks like he is intimately familiar with Michiko's internal thermometer."

Everyone turned to stare when Zetsu spoke surreptitiously from the corner of the room. "_He's shamelessly libidinous_," he murmured.

Awkward shuffling at the bluntness of Zetsu's remark. But they all turned on Sasori soon after. Hidan was the first to get a question in.

"What the fuck happened out there?"

Sasori glared at him noncommittally. "It would be best to wait for Sir Leader to join us, since he will undoubtedly want to hear as well."

But the whole purpose of the mission niggled at the back of Kisame's mind, and he could not help but notice that Itachi was not there. "But, did you find Itachi?"

Eris turned to him and might have pulled off looking apologetic if it weren't an emotion obviously foreign to her. "Of course we did; I only hope you get landed with a better partner next time around."

It took a moment for the intention of the words to fully register in Kisame's mind, but once they did his mind made itself oblivious to what it meant.

"Stop talking in fucking riddles, Eris. And I thought we left you behind…?"

Eris bristled and shot Sasori an "Oh, really?" look that made Kisame shiver.

"Itachi's not dead," he muttered unconvincingly. "It just doesn't work that way…"

"He was stabbed," Sasori explained carelessly, trying to clarify while skirting the main issue. "He was several days dead when we found him."

"Itachi actually got himself killed?" Kakuzu asked shrewdly. "I figured that would take a while yet; he seemed unnaturally astute."

"It was sort of unavoidable, you see," Eris started, "because -"

"We are _waiting_ for the _Leader_, Eris," Sasori reprimanded, scowling very pointedly and very briefly at her.

"_Fine_."

"I'm glad you agree."

"I'm sorry you can't tell that I don't agree."  
"I'm sure you are."

"Shut up."

"Fine."

The silence that ensued gathered force and became a very loud silence. The kind of silence made by people who are absolutely _not_ talking to each other. It made Kisame grin; Eris had been back hardly several minutes and they were at each others throats again.

"What is all this fuss about?" Sir Leader asked imperiously as he swept into the room. After a lull, he pinned Eris with his hawkish gaze. "Nice to have you back," he grumbled.

"Pardon me if I don't believe you, Sir," Eris replied just as awkwardly.

If they had all been a little more cunning they might have noticed something off about that situation, but they were instead rather eager to hear the results of Sasori and Michiko's excursion. Kisame did notice that Sasori did look a touch shaken, but he dismissed it when Eris spoke, seeming about to burst with enthusiasm.

"Itachi stabbed himself!" she exclaimed. "Pinned himself to a tree with his own katana!"

While everyone else busied themselves being stupefied, Sasori jumped down her throat. "You amaze us all with your subtlety and perceptive grasp of the situation, Eris."

"Leave off, you chauvinist pig!"

Eris disappeared in a blossom of octane fire.

The hush when she left was an appreciative one, and Kisame was sure everyone else enjoyed the silence as much as he did. "Hey, Sasori," he called, smirking sharkishly, "did I miss something, or have you always chased Eris off that quickly?"

Sasori seemed not to hear him, turning instead to Leader and elaborating on Eris' blunt remarks.

"And you are sure he was dead?" Sir Leader asked when Sasori finished.

"There was no evidence to support anything else; it must have been at least _half_ of his blood pooled and dried down his chest. Itachi and Michiko now have the same skin pigment," he added with what might have been a smile. "None."

Leader groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, we'll have to find a replacement, obviously. Preferably someone equally as incisive, cold-blooded, and callous."

"_Shit_; we're going to be hard put to do _that_."

"Why not ask Michiko?" Kakuzu put forth perceptively, trying to shut up his partner. "The two of them were almost identical in composure."

"_Tobi has been waiting for a _long_ time, though._ I'm not suggesting we _take_ him," Zetsu added when the others gave him disturbed looks. "I was just pointing it out."

"Zetsu's right," Sir Leader agreed. "Tobi is a fallback. I only wonder if Michiko can be convinced…"

"Maybe if -"

"Sorry, what was that?" Deidara asked, reentering the room. "What's going on, yeah?"  
"Itachi's dead, Deidara," Sasori remarked offhandedly. "Suicide. Anything you might be able to explain about that?" he added, surprisingly cutting.

"What?" Deidara spluttered, surprised by the audacity of the insinuation. "What are you talking about? I just set Michiko down and came back -"

"You were gone a rather long time for having simply set her down."

"I was gone maybe, what, five, ten minutes at most?"

"_Still_."

"Yeah. What the fuck were you doing?"

"What's going on, guys?" Michiko asked softly, skulking up from behind Deidara and flowing to wobbly stop next to him.

"Itachi's committed suicide, Michiko."

"_What_?" She looked mortified, her expression crumpling, eyes tearing up.

Kisame shot a questioning look at Sasori. "I thought she was _there_."

"Eris erased that particular memory of hers," Sasori replied, as if Michiko weren't standing right there.

"She _what_? And you _let_ her? You bastard! Who are you to decide what memories I get to keep?"

"You rather 'snapped', Michiko, and _I_ thought you might not want to have that memory haunting you. Maybe I was wrong."

"What… What happened?"

"Are you _sure_ you want to know?" Sasori asked in a tone that implied Michiko really didn't want to know. "Are you _sure_? In front of everyone?"

"It can't have been _that_ bad…"

Kisame eyed Sasori speculatively, wondering where this odd, slightly considerate puppet had come from.

Sasori sighed, resigned, and gave a half-hearted explanation. "You see, first thing when you found him - yes, _you _found him - you sort of froze, and you had this cracked grin on your face. And - be sure to stop me if you start to feel you would rather not know… no? Okay then. After the initial shock you laughed. That was all for a while, the laughing, and then you started messing up his hair like it was some sort of victory, and by that time Eris showed up, and next thing you've dug yourself space in the snow so could cuddle with and kiss his corpse. And then Eris put you to sleep because she was worried about your mental health. We came back. You were out like a light and then Deidara just swooped in like a starved vulture and carried you off… And here we are now. Whoop-de-doo."

Michiko was shaking, leaning heavily against the wall as if trying to garner support from it. "…Lies…" she mumbled, barely pushing that lone word past her quivering lips. "Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies lies lies lieslieslieslieslies_lieslieslies_…"

She went on like that for a while, repeating it like some sort chant that would help everything, somehow. Everyone was drifting away, bored by the prospect of listening to her moping, and yet not wishing to talk over her. Somehow it didn't quite feel _right_ to Kisame… as right as anything can be in a group of eight homicidal men.

_Seven, now, _Kisame reminded himself. _Dammit. I don't want _her_ as a partner…_

"I want it back." Michiko startled everyone with her sudden recovery, domineering all over again. "My memory; I want it back. Now."

The proposition of another argument tugged at them all, drawing them slowly but surely back to the hall. Realizing that the demand was directed at him, Sasori was the first to return. Besides Deidara, that is, but that didn't count because he hadn't even left to begin with.

"I'm not really at liberty to promise you anything, Michiko, due to the fact that Eris is nowhere to be found."

"Oh bull. You haven't even looked."

"True, but once I start she'll be nigh on impossible to find until she wants to be found, and even then -"

Sir Leader silenced Sasori with a wave of his hand and cut in smoothly. "I think I can persuade Eris to give back your memory, Michiko, no matter how difficult."

There it was again; the disturbed look that Sasori got, like he was missing something.

"Good. Get it back, then."

"It will be difficult, however, and I would like something from you in return, to ensure that the effort I put into it does not go unpaid," he continued as if there had been no interruption. "You understand me, right?"

By now Michiko and Deidara were both looking at the Leader askance, and did not move until Michiko folded her arms in front of her. "What do you want?"

"Why, I would have nothing more than your consent to join us, Michiko," smiling with his mouth only.

"… Join you? And I assume by this you mean the Akatsuki as a whole and not you all personally."

"That's right."

"… Doesn't sound _too_ bad," she mumbled speculatively, chin in hand. "I assume also that there is good reason," she added, as if she wasn't already fully aware of the reason.

"We need you to replace Itachi," Leader responded drolly, humoring her.

"And that's where you go all wrong," Michiko pointed out satisfactorily. "Someone may supersede Itachi, and substitute for him, but no one is ever going to replace him. No one can ever fill the void left behind by his swollen ego."

A small silence followed as everyone pondered this revelation, marveling at the poetry of it as well. (Except Hidan, who merely waited for the next exciting bit of conversation to crop up.)

"We-ell, alright then. Would you like to be the next in line, then? I understand that aside from the disturbing memory you have no real reason to remain with us now that Itachi is gone. Besides the fact that if you try to leave now we have to kill you."

Michiko twitched to the defensive. "Whoever said I don't have reason to stay?" she asked heatedly, hugging Deidara's arm.

The room filled with arched eyebrows, including Deidara's until he smirked in a very self-satisfied way. Hidan snorted, Kakuzu left, Zetsu went to enjoy a meat patty, Sasori set off in search of Eris, and Sir Leader was the only one left with the two of them. Kisame tore himself away from the spectacle and wandered back to the kitchen once he remembered Deidara's food was unguarded.

He had a feeling something in the mixture was missing, but he picked up a handful of cucumber, squash, and cold ham, stuffing it into his mouth. Kisame thought it had the potential to be succulent; if stewed the squash would probably dampen the sting of the ham, and the cucumber could add the moisture the ham lost during the cooking process. It was altogether an innovative combination, and Kisame assumed that he had gotten the best of the deal, because it seemed that it was the step that involved some sort of cooking that screwed Deidara up.

Kisame sat back and helped himself to another handful, not really thinking about anything but the fact that Michiko would most likely end up as his new partner, and how she would most likely end up totally ignoring him and obsessing over Deidara just like Itachi had obsessed over her.

The way Sasori cross-examined Deidara about Itachi's suicide had helped Kisame piece it all together. Something had happened between Michiko and Itachi in The Land of Lightning, that much was for sure. So Itachi had already been depressed and probably flirting with the idea of suicide, and then he most likely walked in on Michiko and Deidara doing something. Maybe what everyone had thought back when Michiko had first escaped, maybe not. The rest, as they say, was history.

Kisame was proud that he had figured it all out with so little effort on his part. He picked up another victory handful of Deidara's concoction and had it in his mouth when he heard a voice he didn't recognize in the room.

"Kisame!"

Needless to say he was a little disturbed at first, but then recognition hit him like a stale potato. "…Maddie?"

A translucent head adorned with tousled mouse-brown hair poked out of the oven door and grinned. "Hi," Maddie said exuberantly, waving at him.

"I thought you were dead." Not one of Kisame's best moments.

"You living people are so biased like that," she teased, emerging in full from inside the oven.

"I thought people who died were supposed to stay dead."

"Well, you know, there was a fork in the road, and I took the one that looped straight back around. I thought you'd be happy I'm not gone," she added morosely, floating in mid-air with her arms hanging limply perpendicular to the floor.

"No, I am," he corrected expediently, instinct telling him to pat her on the shoulder until his hand passed through her shoulder blade and out her chest. He stared it blankly a few moments before he went on. "I just totally wasn't expecting you to show up. Especially after such a long time. Have you been here all along?"

"Yes," she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with her a fribbon. "I just didn't feel like making my presence known, you know? It was better to lie low and sort of mess things up surreptitiously."

Kisame froze. "What do you mean 'mess things up', exactly?"

"Well, don't you think there's a reason everything Deidara touched that I could get my lucent little fribbons on went horribly wrong?"

"… Do you mean physically or metaphorically touched, Maddie?" Kisame asked, grasping at the flaking straws of his patience. He could feel his grin stretching to a snaggle-toothed sneer. "Because if you're the reason Itachi plus Michiko got so screwed up you _really _messed things up."

Maddie drew herself up haughtily, ensconcing her fabric fists on her see-through hips. "No, I stuck to things like burning the food and breaking things. I didn't do anything that drastic."

"When did you take such a disliking to Deidara? You weren't even around that long."

"Well, I didn't take a particular disliking to him; in fact, I always thought he was sort of sweet in a wiry, klutzy sort of way. You see, it was Eris who told me how to come back - she said she felt sort of bad for just killing me like that, but I'm not sure how far she's stretching the truth - and she said if I was going to hang around I might as well make Deidara's life comically woeful because if I didn't she could just un-ghost me. So I thought, 'It's in my best interest to put the screws on him.'"

"So you didn't do anything to Itachi and Michiko?"

"I had no reason to; splitting them up would have made Deidara happier. On that note, I'm not sorry to hear that Itachi has joined my number. I'm sorry for _Michiko_, not _him_. Although she seems to have bounced back rather quickly."

"Yeah," he groaned. "And now she's going to be my partner. This sucks." And then he realized what the ghostly girl had just said. "How did you know about Itachi?"

"I met him going the other way," Maddie replied simply. "Looked pretty hung over, too." She brightened from her almost somber disposition and chirped, "That reminds me of something."

Maddie ducked back into the oven for a few minutes, and Kisame thought it sounded like she was arguing with someone, but that couldn't be right. She was a ghost now; there was no one else to argue with inside the oven.

She flew back almost ungracefully, as if she had been thrown out, and tried to sit on the table next to Kisame a few times before she stopped sinking through the surface. She sat there a while, staring expectantly at the oven door.

"Oh, fine," someone muttered from inside the oven. "What the hell."

Itachi floated until he was halfway out of the door, ghostly blood dripping from the hole produced by the ghost sword sticking out of his chest. He stared balefully at Kisame with tired, abused puppy eyes.

"Why am I still here?"


	6. Maddie's Happy Story

_Author's note: this is not thesepeopleareus, this is13figureskater-Draco'sgirl. see, she and i decided to write this story together, and this part is mine. well, actually, it was more like:  
me: you do realize you have to write more, right?  
her: I'm not the one who wants to write it... if you want, you do it.  
me: fine!  
and so this part was born. michiko is still hers, as is maddie, and all canon characters belong to whoever it was who created naruto._

* * *

Maddie Snatches the Happy Story with an Evil grin

In Maddie's humble opinion, being a ghost wasn't really the best thing in the world

In Maddie's humble opinion, being a ghost wasn't really the best thing in the world. For one thing, she really couldn't _do_ anything other than mess with Deidara's culinary exploits… attempted culinary exploits. There was no denying that, entertaining as his howls of despair were, it quickly got old. Then again, it was better than being back… _there_. She would do just about anything to stop from being shipped back _there_. If torturing Deidara was what it took, then she would do it willingly with a smile and a whistle. Well, not literally, of course, as things like that depended on stealth, but she whistled in her mind.

Of course, things were a lot more interesting than usual around here, what with Itachi killing himself and Michiko hooking up with Deidara and everyone generally being in a state of uproar. Maddie, who had more time to think about these things than those who were actually taking part in them, suspected Eris had more than a little to do with the current state of affairs, but that was just a suspicion and no one paid attention to a ghost anyway. At least, they probably wouldn't if they knew she was here, which they didn't, so any thoughts on such things were merely theoretical.

And then Itachi himself showed up in her oven, bringing his bloodstains and his brooding attitude to completely ruin her peace of mind. It was all very well to chuckle at the naïve stupidity of the living from the safe vantage point of death, but it was quite different when she suddenly found herself a principle player in the game that was life. Or, at least, the game that was the drama of life. She couldn't exactly partake in the game of life itself, seeing as she'd struck out long ago.

It had been pure instinct to call out to Kisame like she'd done. And then she'd improvised from there, taking a gamble that he'd accept her story and winning. So now she was exposed, and Itachi was officially back, and she had no idea what to do next. Her inspiration had run dry, and, when faced with a frowning Sir Leader, this wasn't the best thing in the world.

"And you chose not to alert us to your presence because…?"

"I… um… didn't think I'd be an asset to the organization and did not wish to be a liability." There. Straight, to the point, polite, and reasonably educated. Heck, she'd even used those big words he liked so much! Surely that had to count for _something_, right?

Apparently not, because his expression didn't soften a single iota. "You made yourself into a liability by not informing us of your presence immediately. It will not happen again, do you understand, Maddie?"

She ducked her immaterial head. "Yes Leader."

"Good. Now, Kisame, tell me about Itachi."

And that was that. Sir Leader grilled Kisame about Itachi's death and subsequent reemergence into life without so much as glancing at Maddie even once. It was so unfair! After all, _Maddie_ was the one who had met Itachi in the first place, not Kisame. Yet here the shark-man was, answering Sir Leader's questions as though he knew everything in the world about it.

She glided away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes blazing fire for anyone who cared to look… which wasn't anyone, since they were all with Sir Leader and Kisame, thinking they knew what was going on. Well, she would show _them_!

She found Eris, the only one of the gang not to be glued attentively to Sir Leader's interrogation, sitting cross-legged on the roof, merrily blowing up fruit-flies. She didn't look up as Maddie joined her, but the ghost-girl knew the goddess had seen her.

"Back to be killed again, Maddie?"

"No, not really."

"Then why are you here instead of sucking up to your mutant boyfriend?"

"First of all, Eris, I'm kind of a ghost, courtesy of you know who."

"I _said_ I was sorry."

"Sure you did. Anyway, apart from that small fact, Kisame is busy right now."

"Busy?"

Maddie nodded bitterly. "Busy being Sir Leader's favorite person."

Eris stopped dead for a short yet momentous moment. Maddie wasn't sure anything had ever brought the Goddess of Chaos to a complete standstill before, and she felt momentarily smug to know that _she'd_ been the one to do it. Eris' paralysis lasted mere seconds, though, and then she was once more fully functional. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

So Maddie did. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, she poured out her story to what she hoped was a sympathetic audience. When she finished, there was another long silence but, this time, Eris wasn't shocked into immobility. She was thinking.

Finally, she turned to look straight into Maddie's translucent face. "You want to be recognized?"

"Yes."

"You want to once more be a part of the Akatsuki?"

"Yes."

"You want Kisame?"

"Ye… How did you know that?"

Eris laughed, a soft, mocking laugh. "I'm the Goddess of Chaos, dear. Of course I know this kind of thing. You _do_ want him, don't you?"

Maddie nodded.

"Then you really only have one choice: you have to kill him."

Maddie's eyes went wide and she shook her head. "No!"

"Why not?"

"I won't kill him! That… no."

"Then you'll never have him."

"I… I know that."

Eris looked at her steadily. "How much do you want your revenge?"

"Revenge?"

"That _is_ what you want, isn't it? You want to be recognized for the contribution you gave to the Akatsuki, and you want to punish those who don't recognize you. That's revenge in _my_ book."

"I suppose. Can you… _will_ you help me?"

Eris laughed again. "Smart, to make that distinction. As it is, I both can and will help you. I wanted to get back at Sasori anyway."

"Sasori?"

"Long story. So, do you want my help or not?"

"Yes please."

"Good. Then here's what you need to do."

Maddie crept through the deserted halls of the base, thanking her lucky stars that ghosts didn't have to sleep. It made such things much easier if one could accomplish them by night.

"Come _on_!" she muttered, dragging Itachi's limp form behind her. He still spent most of his time in the oven, brooding over the past and generally reducing himself to a state very much resembling catatonic. Maddie found herself avoiding the oven more and more these days. But she needed him for what she was going to do, and so had steeled herself to haul him along.

"Where are we going?" It was the first thing he'd spoken since she fetched him unceremoniously from his kitchen retreat, and she was in no mood to celebrate that.

"So you can speak. I was beginning to wonder. We're going to see Deidara."

Itachi balked, digging his immaterial heels into the very material carpet. This action, naturally, did all of nothing to impede their progress, and Maddie sighed. "You really don't know how this works, do you?"

He didn't answer, and she offered nothing more, continuing to drag him through the base, bothering neither with doors nor with the floor as she went.

Finally, they reached Deidara's room. As Maddie had known it would be, the bed was filled with, not one, but two bodies, entwined together in a grotesque parody of tenderness. 'Here we go,' Maddie thought to herself, and pushed Itachi forward.

"What…?"

"Let her know you're still here! She wasn't at the meeting, so she won't know."

"How?"

"You're a ghost, aren't you?"

"And?"

Maddie sigh of exasperation ruffled the curtains on the far end of the room. "Dear gods, you don't know _anything_, do you?"

"No."

Suddenly, Maddie had had enough. All she wanted was her revenge, to be recognized and treated like she existed. This was only an intermediate step, one of the things she'd promised Eris she would do in exchange for the goddess' help. It had seemed like a small thing at the time. 'Get Michiko and Itachi back together.' What could go wrong? Itachi loved her, and she, despite her protests to the contrary, loved him, so all they both needed was a good shove in the right direction. But she hadn't counted on Itachi being the helpless lump he'd morphed into. She wondered vaguely what had happened to the Itachi she used to know, the ruthless and heartless killer of anyone who annoyed him. Clearly _that_ Itachi had vanished and been replaced with _this_ Itachi, a spineless and emotionless creature of emo-ish despair. Maddie wondered momentarily about the likelihood of it being an invasion of the Pod People, then shook her head. It was probably just Itachi's mid-life crisis coming out in force.

"Look at me, Itachi."

He did so.

"I don't give a damn about you and Michiko. You know that, right?"

Ignoring the shudder that spasmed through his body at Michiko's name, Maddie continued.

"All I want is to get _my_ life back."

"But you're dead." It was nothing more than a whisper, so filled with dejected pain that she could almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

"And? I can still have a life, you know. And so can you, if you'd let yourself admit it."

"She loves _him_."

"She's _playing_ with him," Maddie snapped. "And anyone with half an eye can see that. Actually, the only ones who can't are you and Deidara."

"What does it matter? She doesn't love _me_ anymore."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do."

She hit him. A hard slap across the face, one filled with pent up frustration and anger.

"Will you _get a __**grip**_?!" she screeched, not caring who they woke up. "All you do all day is sit there and _whine_. 'Oh, she doesn't love me!' 'Oh, my life sucks.' 'Oh, I wish I was dead again.' Well face it. You are dead and you'll stay that way, but that's no reason to make yourself into Itachi the dead emo brat. You are _Itachi_, the number one member of the Akatsuki, and you are hurting the entire organization with your moaning and your whining. So either grow up and face life, or go away!"

She waited, her face slightly flushed and her breath coming in short gasps. Amazingly, no one had woken up.

"Then I guess I should be going."

She stared in shock as he turned and glided morosely away, her eyes wide. She hadn't been expecting _that_ result! She wanted to go after him and drag him back, but there was no point. He'd made it perfectly clear that he was going to give up on death just as he'd given up on life.

She looked back down at the sleeping couple, and sighed. She really hadn't wanted to do this, but there didn't seem to be any choice. She would have to talk to Michiko herself.

With a long sigh, she glided over to the bed and touched Michiko's shoulder. Her hand went through, but the older woman shifted.

"Michiko. Wake up. Right now."

The eyes popped open and Michiko glared through Maddie.

"Right here."

"What do you want?"

"Come with me"

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"_Yes!"_

"_NO!_"

Maddie lost the few vestiges of patience she still possessed and, with it, the remnants of caution.

"You _will_ come with me or, heavens help me, I will make your life a misery for as long as you live and then keep haunting you after you die."

Michiko glowered. "What do you _want_, Maddie?"

"I need to talk to you."

"It can't wait?"

"No."

She grumbled incoherently, but shifted and made as though to get up. Deidara shifted in his sleep, bringing an arm around her and dragging her back down. Maddie noticed that she didn't fight against him very hard.

"I'm apparently not able to leave right now," Michiko informed Maddie smugly. "Come back later."

"No." Maddie closed her eyes, clenched her fists, and lifted the blanket off them. Michiko stared for a moment, then reached up to drag it back down. Maddie whisked it away, then got to work on the window. It clacked noisily, making Michiko jump despite herself and Deidara mumble something in his sleep. Leaving the window to clack as it wished, Maddie turned towards the bed again and began to dismantle it, hanging the various pieces in the air as she unhooked them. The exertion tired her out, but she bit her lip and bore it, determined to see this through. As she began yanking the stuffing out of Deidara's mattress, Michiko sighed.

"Fine. But stop destroying his things."

"Get up and I'll stop."

Michiko gently moved Deidara's arm and slipped out, stepping off the remains of the bed and onto the cold floor. Maddie let everything stop, allowing the window to clack shut one last time, the cover to flop back to the floor and the various pieces of the bed to drop down where they wished. She hoped that one of the legs would land on Deidara, but no such luck. He didn't even wake up.

Shaking her head at that – no evil villain worth his salt slept through an attack – Maddie led Michiko through the base out into the open. There was no sign of Itachi, though Maddie supposed he was still around here somewhere.

"What do you want, Maddie?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Then talk!"

Maddie sighed slightly, but talked. "Look, you know I'm a ghost, obviously. Well, I'm not the only one here, and the price I pay for being a part of the Akatsuki again is to make said other ghost stop feeling sorry for himself and send your new boyfriend spiraling into depression. So, you need to break up with Deidara and go off with Itachi, slap him enough times in the face that he comes to his senses, and then rejoin the team."

"Itachi? But, Itachi's… wait. You said _another_ ghost?"

"Honey, have you gotten slow over the years? Of course I meant Itachi. He's out here somewhere, probably sulking and plotting ways to become un-ghosted."

It showed how much this news disturbed Michiko that she didn't react to being called slow. Instead, her face went through an incredible series of transformations, beginning with shocked disbelief and ending with flat out despair.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered. "I can't… Deidara… Itachi… the Akatsuki..."

"Get a grip," Maddie snapped wearily. "Go talk to Itachi. You should be able to find him soon enough, if you look hard enough. I'll talk to Eris, and get me into the Akatsuki in your place as Kisame's partner. Deidara will just have to cope."

Maddie left without waiting for Michiko's answer, going to find Eris and deliver her news.

The goddess was waiting for her, as Maddie had known she would be.

"Well?"

"I'm fairly certain Deidara's heart will be broken – again – within mere hours."

"Good."

Maddie sighed. "What do you have against him, anyway?"

Eris smiled, showing pointed teeth. "He suffers so prettily."

"Okaayy. Will you get me back where I belong now?"

"Of course. I'm true to my word. Come on."

Maddie trailed the goddess to find Sir Leader, carefully _not_ thinking about how much trouble they would all be in for this.


	7. Eris' Happy Story

_Author's note: it's me, 13figureskater-Draco'sgirl again. I wrote this one too. (Can you tell the difference? lol). Anyway, as thesepeopleareus already said, Eris is an OC, which I didn't actually know when I wrote this, but who cares... The point is, she's not mine nor is anyone else in this story._

* * *

Eris Grabs the Happy Story and Attempts to End it with a Cackle

Eris was the Goddess of Chaos. And, if she did say so herself (and she did) she was damn good at her job. Indeed, she reveled in chaos and in destruction, and, most of all, she adored the repercussions of the mayhem she created. Though, when said repercussions actually involved _her_ she liked them much less. Still, she'd promised Maddie she would get her her place it the Atasuki back, and when a goddess gives her word, she is bound for all eternity. That involved having a nice long chat with Sir Leader, something Eris wasn't too keen on doing right now.

She knocked on the door, hoping to any of her fellow gods who were listening that Sir Leader wasn't asleep. She'd never tested her theory, but she suspected he wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed being woken up from his slumber at ungodly hours of the night. Though, she thought, her lips curling into a mocking smile, this place got attacked in the middle of the night enough that he must be used to it by now.

"Who is it?" He didn't _sound_ like a man roused from the deepest depths of slumber, but Eris thought it prudent to make Maddie go first. After all, the girl was a ghost. Nothing Sir Leader chose to throw at them could hurt her, and they _would_ hurt Eris, even if the pain was merely a temporary irritation.

"Eris. And Maddie."

That got his attention. He yanked the door open and scowled at the pair.

"Is there any particular reason you are here instead of asleep?"

"Maddie has a favor to ask you."

"A favor? Why should I do a favor to one who has compromised our security by her very presence?"

Even Eris could see the unfairness in that statement, and, by Maddie's clenched fists, she could too.

"Sir, she did nothing. She merely remained quiet and made no trouble until such time as her presence was required." After all, making Deidara's life a misery didn't count as trouble, it counted as mindless entertainment. It was almost better than a soap-opera.

Sir Leader scowled, but Eris noted with interest that he didn't deliberately contradict her. Hmm, that was something to consider. Maybe he truly _was_ wary of her and the power she could unleash at will. She would have to remember that.

"What favor do you want?" he snapped.

"I want rejoin the Akatsuki," Maddie piped up bravely.

Sir Leader stared at her for a long moment, then began laughing. It was a laugh with absolutely no humor whatsoever, and Eris wondered if it could even be considered a laugh.

"And why exactly do you think we would want you?" he demanded when he'd stopped laughing… or whatever he'd been doing… long enough to speak.

"You could use me. You're short a member, and I'm a willing volunteer. I don't believe Kisame would object either."

"The fact remains that there is absolutely _nothing_ you can do in your current state."

Maddie's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Isn't there? I would suggest you take a look at Deidara's room then, Sir."

Eris shot a glance at the ghost-girl. Clearly she was going to have to check it out, and soon. If the look on Maddie's face was an indication, it would be worth seeing.

"What have you done to Deidara's room?"

"I had a… philosophical discussion with Michiko. She's outside with Itachi, by the way."

"And Deidara?"

"We should be hearing from him soon."

Eris shot a glance at the window, trying to gauge the time. A few rays of sunlight looked like they might possibly decide to poke up behind the horizon but, apart from that, it was still dark.

"I wouldn't count on that. Deidara tends to sleep until well after daybreak."

"Yes, but only when he's not missing something. He'll discover soon enough that his dearly beloved – former dearly beloved, I should say – isn't there, and he'll jump up in a panic to go search for her and probably turn into what Itachi used to be."

Sir Leader scowled. "You have now succeeded in reducing another of my men to a state of utter uselessness, and you expect me to reinstate you? Dying must have made you more than a touch delusional."

"If I killed Deidara and gave you back Itachi, doesn't that count as a more than equal trade? Of course, he'll have to think of a way to get those gods-awful bloodstains out of his ectoplasm, but other than that he should be in full fighting form in a few days."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Eris was curious now. From what she knew of Itachi, it would take weeks, at the very least.

"Eris, if _you_ had Michiko demanding that you snap out of it, don't you think you would?"

Eris, who had seen Michiko at less than her best, doubted it, but, then, she wasn't in love with the wretched creature either. It might be different for Itachi.

"And what do you intend to do about Deidara?"

Maddie shrugged slightly. "Deidara can either deal with the fact that Michiko doesn't love him, or he can have _his_ mid-life crisis and fill the void left by Itachi. Every camp needs a depressed emo, right?"

"Your humor falls somewhere on the short side of flat, Maddie."

Maddie didn't answer, and silence hung in the air for a long moment.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting roar broke it and Eris, like the other two, turned towards it like a sunflower turns towards the sun. Though, come to think of it, perhaps a different comparison should be used, as Deidara was very little like the sun, and anyone comparing Eris to a sunflower would be faced with instant and agonizing death. But I digress.

"That will be Deidara," Maddie remarked offhandedly, "realizing that something's missing."

Sure enough, precisely thirty seven seconds later, Deidara skidded to a halt in the Leader's room, dashing right through Maddie in his haste. She grimaced in distaste and made a big show of dusting herself off.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?"

"Michiko!"

"I suspect she's outside with Itachi." Eris hid a grin as she spoke, watching the blood drain from Deidara's face.

"Itachi?! But… but… but he's…"

"Dead. We know."

"Where is he?"

Maddie shrugged. "How should I know? Last time I saw him, he'd stomped off to try and kill himself – again – but I suspect you could follow Michiko's footsteps and find him that way."

Without waiting for an answer, Deidara turned and sprinted out the door, passing once more through Maddie, who, after grimacing horribly, sent a particularly vicious-looking potted plant sitting in Sir Leader's room to knock him down three flights of stairs. She returned the pot, miraculously unharmed, to its place and smiled in smug satisfaction. Eris grinned.

Sir Leader looked at Maddie with something almost akin to respect. "I see I underestimated your capabilities. What else can you do?"

With a slight smirk of triumph, Maddie vanished. Moments later, that same potted plant rose, hovered directly over the carpet, then dropped silently to explode with a crash upon impact. Sir Leader looked at the mess with mild distaste, but his attention was focused on Maddie… or where he thought Maddie was. Suddenly, a knife came at him from behind, and he whirled, only to be faced with just her head, grinning cruelly, and the knife floating in a businesslike manner before her.

"You can stop now," he said dryly. "I am more than informed as to your strengths."

"I can also spy. I can pass through walls made of anything up to pure power – yes, I have tested that – and I can eavesdrop on anyone and everything. I would make an ideal secret agent. Besides that, I can still wield a knife and, when provided with anything solid not exceeding 250 pounds, I can move it around and drop it silently and at will."

He nodded slowly. "I will think on it. Now, clean up this mess and let me get some sleep!"

Eris looked hard at Maddie, who sighed. Scrunching up her face, she levitated the entire mess and dumped it out the open window, where it all landed on Deidara, who was just emerging into the open. His muted howls of fury had Eris grinning once again.

The two crept out of the room, closing the door behind them, and parted company, Maddie to do whatever Maddie did in her free time – Eris suspected this had something to do with Kisame but she wasn't about to try and find out – and Eris to head up to the roof and watch the fun unfold.

Deidara had found Michiko and, by default, Itachi. Curious, Eris slid halfway down the roof, landing cat-quiet on Sasori's balcony to watch from a closer vantage point.

"…_mine_!" Deidara was growling, his hands palm up, clearly itching to attack Itachi's immaterial form.

"Not anymore." Itachi's voice was stronger, more confident than it had been for a long time. Eris suspected Michiko, standing protectively by his side, had more to do with that than any actual anger on Itachi's part.

"Tell him, Michiko!" Deidara begged, turning his gaze to the bone-pale woman. "You know that he's wrong."

Michiko's answer was swift and brutal. She reached out and slapped his face. Hard. Eris winced slightly. That had to hurt!

Deidara's eyes widened with pain and shock as he looked from Michiko to Itachi in confused disbelief.

"But… but earlier… in the kitchen… you said…"

"I don't care what I said," she snapped icily. "Surely you of all people know what it's like not to be thinking clearly."

Deidara flushed, and Eris' eyebrow rose in curiosity. Clearly there was a secret here, and she wanted it.

"Go away." _That_ was Itachi's voice, cold and unemotional, yet still utterly commanding. Eris knew that if she were Deidara, she would have absolutely no desire to disobey. Deidara clearly felt the same way, because he turned stiffly and walked away, rage and pain evident in every line of his body.

She hadn't been expecting what came next, though she should have been. It was only a matter of time, of course. As Deidara came towards her, she wondered more than a little cynically what it was about Michiko that made all the guys she got her hands on break to pieces when she left. Clearly Eris would have to study her form and imitate it. It was a useful skill for any woman, particularly one such as Eris.

"What do you want, Deidara?"

"What do you think? You were watching. I know you were. You're always watching."

Eris didn't even try to deny it. Instead, she eyed him closely. "You're _sure_?"

He nodded soundlessly.

"I won't reverse it, you know. I made an exception for Maddie because that was an accident. You want this, you get all of it. I'd talk to Maddie before making a decision. I would say talk to Itachi because he's been through it more recently, but…"

"No!"

"Exactly."

He didn't hesitate. "Just do it."

Eris sighed. "The things I do for my friends."

"I'm not your friend."

"No, that's true. I must admit, though, I will miss you."

His eyebrows shot up. "_Why?_"

She grinned. "Let's just say that there's a _reason_ you can't cook anymore."

His fists clenched at his sides. Eris wondered vaguely if he ever bit himself doing that, but dismissed the thought.

"Will you get on with it?" he demanded through clenched teeth. "I don't want to wait all day!"

Eris sighed. She really would miss him. "You're absolutely sure?"

"_**YES!**_"

"All right."

She did it quietly, with little ceremony and less elegance. One moment he stood before her, his fists clenched and his breath coming in short gasps, the next slumped at her feet, motionless and not breathing. She eyed the corpse distastefully, wondering what she was going to do with it. A glint came suddenly to her eyes, and she sprang back up to the roof, leaving Deidara's cooling body for Sasori to deal with when he woke up. It would serve the chauvinistic bastard right.

Itachi and Michiko had vanished, though whether they'd gone back into the base or out into the forest to attempt some species of impractical and impossible act of tenderness, Eris neither knew nor cared. They didn't concern her any longer.

So it was that life returned to what passed as normal for the Akatsuki. Maddie was reinstated as Kisame's partner, much to their mutual delight, and Itachi and Michiko stuck together as though they couldn't bear to be parted, though it was amusing to watch him occasionally go through her when they tried to move in two different directions at once. Eris thoroughly enjoyed watching Sasori react to Deidara's corpse on his balcony, and enjoyed even more Sir Leader's quiet yet somehow gleeful resignation when he heard the news. She even thought she heard him mutter something about it 'being about time' as he turned away, but, of course, her hearing could have been deceiving her.

As normalcy returned to the group, Eris began searching for something else to amuse her. She _was_ a Goddess, after all, and all the excitement had killed her favorite play-toy. Still, with the new additions to the team and the plans drawn up by Sir Leader, she was certain that she would find _something_ to keep her entertained. Itachi's brat of a younger brother certainly had promise, and she began quietly plotting ways to induce him to come to the Akatsuki and become her newest unwitting pawn. For the meantime, Zetsu would do nicely, and she passed endless hours of delirious entertainment setting the two sides of his personality on each other and watching as sparks – and sometimes bits of vegetation – flew through the air.


	8. Deidara's Not So Happy Story

_Author's note: well, this is 13figureskater-Draco'sgirl again, but I didn't write this chapter. She did, but I didn't want to wait for her to make an A/N for it, so I did instead... Yeah, this came from a conversation where we decided we didn't want to end the story and decided to bring Dei back. As you will notice, she ended it HORRIBLY and is making me write the next part. -sigh-. and no, none of this is mine, and if you want to know which parts are hers, you will have to ask her._

* * *

Deidara Returns to Swipe the Happy Story and Finish it Off with a Bang

Deidara was getting tired of the waiting. Of course, this was supposed to be what hells were like, right?

He wasn't quite sure how time was passing, or if it was even passing at all. He just knew that there was a stupid long line, and the guy in front of him smelled like the bottom of a lake. Scratch that, there were _two_ lines, almost side by side, but the neon blue liquid gushing in between them like a waterfall in reverse made it clear no line jumping was allowed. Either that or the road to hell was paved with water shows.

But it was just an annoyance. He really didn't care. This was just a stupid wait until he got to a nice, peaceful final resting place. Any hell would promise an existence more peaceful than the time he'd spent alive. After all, wherever he ended up, there would be no Michiko.

There would be no Michiko to ignore him, no Michiko to insult him. No Michiko to laugh at him, no Michiko to laugh with him. No Michiko to pick him up, no Michiko to use him, no Michiko to crumple him up, no Michiko to toss him aside. No Michiko to pretend to love him… no Michiko – period…

Deidara glanced up when the smelly man in front of him disappeared. No special effects, no nothing: just there one second and gone the next. He found himself looking at a woman with pale skin tinted swamp green and blonde hair tinted poison apple red sitting behind a desk. One sweep of it gave him the impression of someone with a hellishly organized mind, even if she was almost as beautiful as Michiko. He winced when the thought ran through his mind, and the woman gave him a brusque look which turned to distaste when she spotted his hands.

"Hello, sir," she told him quickly, reaching out and plucking a clipboard out of mid-air. He watched her curiously as her eyes ran down it, running to the left and twitching back to the right as she read each new line. "We have some blanks to fill in, Deidara," she informed him as she plucked a pen from the air as well. "I'll show an inkblot, and you'll tell me what you see."

Deidara's eye widened briefly out of shock, and for the first time a smirk graced the woman's lips.

"Good. Just a verification thing, to make sure it's actually you" she assured him. "We don't want anyone sneaking in."

He was going to ask her who the hells would want to sneak into the hells, but decided against it. She looked disdainful enough already.

"So where are you going?"

Deidara was confused. "What? I thought that's what I was here to find out…?"

She sighed in an overly exasperated manner. "No one's ever prepared…" she muttered under her breath, slapping down the clipboard and not quite glaring at him. "Occupation."

He assumed it was a question. "Erm… Criminal?"

She looked down at the clipboard and jotted something down. "Specific."

"…What?" he asked helplessly. He _so_ hadn't been ready for this.

"What did you do?" she demanded impatiently.

"Kill people," he said, not without a note of residual pride.

"How."

"Art." He smirked when she glanced up at him, a frown creasing her forehead. "I guess they were all just blown away…"

He thought maybe he saw her smile, but before he could be sure it was gone again. "Okay, so far I've got you penned in either fifth or sixth circle," she said, though not looking at him. "Hmm… How about method of death? I've got suicide here, but we need some of the details."

"Well, yes, technically." He shrugged. "I mean, I didn't kill myself, but I had someone else do it for me."

"Mmhm," she muttered, nodding slightly. "Maybe if you're lucky we can get you into seventh circle. "How were you killed?"

"To be honest I'm not really sure: she just looked at me and here I am. Not much of a drama."

She frowned again. "Who killed you?" she asked wearily, like she really just wanted to get rid of him and move on to the next person in the never-ending line.

Maybe this was her hell. Maybe this was her personal hell, checking people in and such. Deidara didn't dwell on it; it was too disconcerting. It made him wonder he'd be spending his time.

"Who killed you?" she reiterated crossly, waving a hand in front of his face.

"What?" he asked automatically as he reoriented himself. "Eris."

At that the woman paused. No, not just paused; she froze. She looked over to the right and Deidara couldn't help but follow the direction of her gaze. He found another woman in another desk catering to the other line, but she had frozen as well.

The two were like twin statues. Identical twins, perhaps, or clones at the very least. They both stared at each other, perfectly still, as if someone had slid a mirror into the small gap between their desks.

They remained like that for a short while. Then suddenly, as if on cue, they straightened and looked at each other knowingly, then turned to him, eyebrows arched. He really hadn't been expecting what came next.

Again, at the same time, they lolled their heads back, dropped their jaws, and screamed. It was very pervasive, the high-pitched sound burrowing into his ears, seeping the pain into his core like a sadist's knife.

Then they stopped. The other twin woman went back to the woman standing in front of her desk, who was stuck with enough needles to look like a pincushion and hadn't seemed to have noticed that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

"Please go to the waiting room," his twin snipped at him, pushing the clipboard into his hands. "The Master will be here shortly."

Deidara was aching to ask her what the hells had just happened when he suddenly found he could not work his mouth open. It was very frustrating. Defeated, he turned to the left and found that instead of the vast barren waste that had been there before, now a door stood erect with the words "Waiting Room" painted on its knotted surface. He trudged over and pushed it open cautiously, listening to the tortured creaking the hinges unleashed.

The room was horrible. It had a sofa and two chairs. And a table. At first it seemed normal, but then he got to looking at it and found there was something horribly familiar about it.

Everything was white, except for the walls, which were painted vomit green. There were hooks on the walls, he presumed, because white coats hung there in neat rows, as if waiting to be occupied. There was neat little tidy desk, with a stack of inkblots splayed across its gleaming surface.

When he finally sat down he sunk into one of the chairs, leaning into it rather uneasily, eyes darting around the room. It was so sterile, so blank, so lifeless. It was getting to him. He tilted his head back to take a deep, calming breath and gave a bleat of terror instead.

There was a face looking back at him from the top of the high-backed chair, grinning at him. Then it moved to the left, and a body followed, wrapped in a deep green cloak, the hood pushed back to reveal a completely normal face. His eyes were ashen grey, and his hair was nearly translucent, but he was still normal looking. He was toting a scythe, too, and he stood it up and leaned against it like a wall, even though it seemed it should fall over.

"So, Deidara," he grinned. "You're dead."

He wasn't quite sure how to respond top that. "…Yes," he confirmed hesitantly, and the man grinned.

"Eris killed you?" he asked cheerfully

"…Yes." The man grinned again, clapping his hands together like a small child.

"Excellent!"

"…So why am I here?"

"Deidara, this is where dead people come," the man chided mockingly. "But you have yet to figure out who I am." The man waited eagerly for a few moments, then frowned when he didn't respond. "I'm Ripowal… The God of Death…?" he prompted.

"Okay." Deidara shrugged. "I still don't see what that has to do with anything."

Ripowal frowned briefly before smirking again. "I was part of the movement to get Eris banished to your world."

Deidara just stared at him. This was called the waiting room, but he was sick of waiting.

Ripowal sighed theatrically. "Eris is my little sister."

That made him sit up a little straighter. "So…?"

"So I'm going to send you back."

"What? Why? If I wanted to be back there I wouldn't be here in the first place!"

"Well, I'm the God of Death, so it doesn't really matter what you want. You see, Eris killed you, right?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see how-"

"Then you must have annoyed her, right?"

"Actually-"

"So I'm sending you back. Last time I took someone she knew she begged and begged for me not to take him, so this time I'm giving her back her human, just to annoy her. Do you promise to bother her?"

"Well, I didn't even have to try before, but-"

"Good. Goodbye, Deidara. Have fun for me!" Ripowal waved a farewell and before Deidara could even move he had ripped a wound in the vomit wall with his scythe. It sucked him towards it, and Deidara didn't even bother fighting it anymore. He was doomed to go back, and for a while he drifted through a void. Then he felt something pulling at him again, and he was drawn to it irresistibly, like a puppet no a string.

Then the moment hung there for ages, like the eternal torment of the damned, and he was expelled into what looked suspiciously like the inside of an oven.


	9. Itachi's Happy Story

_Authors note: yup, it's me Draco'sgirl again. (i'm too lazy to type my entire username, so you'll have to be happy with that.) as i mentioned before, she made me write this part, so i punished her with the ending. you'd better hope she updates soon if you want to find out what happens.  
disclaimer: let's see... we're getting lots and lots of OC's, aren't we? but who cares? they're not mine anyway. but, just to make the __ people happy... michiko is hers, maddie is hers, eris is hers, ripowal is hers... i think that's it. the rest belongs to whoever it was who wrote naruto._

* * *

Itachi Decides it isn't Finished and Demands it Back

Itachi drifted across the kitchen, vaguely wondering why everything seemed so very quiet around the base. It has been liked this for the last several days, and he couldn't help feeling oddly unsettled by the lack of agitation. Actually, it was more than that. It was the lack of a _specific_ agitation. He just couldn't think what it was.

He automatically put out his arms as he passed through a chair, grimacing slightly as he did so. He couldn't quite get the hang of this non-corporeal state, and it was still instinctive to attempt to brace himself against any solid items in his path.

As he dropped his hands back to his sides, he froze, half his body still passing through the chair. Hands. Something missing. Of course! He groaned aloud. Why couldn't Deidara just leave him _alone_!? Even when they were both _dead_, Deidara continued to haunt him. It wasn't _fair_!

'Just how often is life fair, hmm?'

Itachi whirled to see Michiko walking towards him, her eyebrows raised in a half mocking expression.

'Hardly ever,' he admitted.

'Exactly.'

She came towards him, her brows furrowed slightly in concentration. Itachi had to grin. Ever since he'd come back as a ghost, she'd had some trouble locating him. He couldn't help feeling that, in some small way, it made up for the hells she'd put him through.

'Over here.'

'I knew that!' she snapped, changing direction. 'You do realize that you're halfway through my chair, don't you?'

He'd forgotten that fact. Hurriedly, he pulled the rest of himself out of the chair and went to perch on the table. He'd finally mastered Maddie's trick of hovering mere millimeters above and object so that it _looked_ as though he were sitting on it. She'd nodded in bored approval when he showed off his new skill. "You're learning," she'd remarked, before whisking the chair out from under him and passing it to Kisame.

Suddenly, Itachi stiffened, his head turning sharply towards the oven. A glance at Michiko confirmed that she'd heard it too. Silently, Itachi rose and crept towards the oven, passing close to Michiko so that she wouldn't go too. He paused in front of it, one hand extended to open it. Suddenly, he changed his mind and, instead of opening the door, he passed through it into the depths of the appliance.

A disheveled figure greeted him, one that was not only far too familiar but singularly unwelcome.

"Why are you back here?"

Deidara sighed. "It wasn't by choice, I assure you."

"Then, what…?"

"You didn't know Gods had to deal with sibling rivalry too, did you?"

"Sibling rivalry?"

Deidara nodded.

Itachi grimaced, crossing his arms over his bloodstained chest. "I would understand this so much better if you actually bothered to _explain_ yourself, you know."

Deidara expelled a gusty sigh. "What is there to explain? Eris killed me; her brother brought me back."

"Eris has a brother?"

"Apparently."

"And he sent you back _why_?"

Deidara shrugged. "Actually, I wasn't too clear on that part. It went a bit fast."

"Great. So now we have another ghost on the team as well as an odd number of members. Sir Leader won't be pleased."

"It's not _my_ fault!"

"Who cares? The fact remains that you're here again."

'Itachi, what's going on?'

'Deidara.'

He felt her stiffen. 'What about Deidara?'

'He's back.'

'Back?'

'Yes. Incidentally, this is one _hell_ of a big oven!'

'What?'

'Never mind.'

Itachi turned back to Deidara, his mouth twisting into a slightly malicious grimace. "Come on. We've got to tell Sir Leader."

"Tell him what?"

"That it's raining ice cream cones and hailing slushies. What do you _think_?!"

"Oh. Right."

Deidara drifted morosely out through the over door. Itachi followed rapidly. Too rapidly, it turned out, as he collided head on with the other ghost and rebounded back into the oven and halfway through the wall before regaining control of his momentum.

Deidara had moved by the time Itachi tried again – more cautiously this time. The newest ghost of the team floated a little ways away, staring at Michiko in a way that made Itachi _very_ uncomfortable. He went to stand at her side possessively.

"I was just _looking_, gods!"

Itachi scowled. "You said that right before the other time, too."

"How do _you_ know? _You_ were busy becoming a living vegetable."

"I'd be careful with that term if I were you. I'm sure Zetsu could find a way to cause you pain despite your current state."

Deidara scowled, but shut up. Itachi grinned. Michiko laughed.

"_Why do I need to cause Deidara pain?_ He's not dead anymore. _Obviously not._ Shut up! _Then stop making such genius observations!_"

Itachi watched in bemused entertainment as Zetsu argued with himself. He – they? – didn't do it very often in public, and the sight was a welcome distraction from the issue at hand.

"So why do we need to cause Deidara pain?"

"Never mind," Itachi muttered quickly. He didn't want to have to deal with the confusion of explaining the matter to both sides of the carnivorous plant-being.

"_Sir Leader will want to know that Deidara's…back."_

"We know. We were going to tell him just as you came in."

"We were?" Deidara demanded.

"Yes, we were. Come on." Itachi led the way out of the kitchen and into the hall, wondering which particular of the gods hated him at this moment. Why was he _volunteering_ to go see Sir Leader? It had to be some kind of plot made by those higher up the food chain than he was.

They made their way through the base in tense silence, watching out for anyone else who might decide to join their little group. Itachi sincerely hoped that no one would. Four was already too many, and if Zetsu counted as two…

Itachi shoved the thought violently out of his mind and concentrated on what he would tell Sir Leader when they arrived at their destination. _Um, Sir? Deidara happens to be back as another ghost and doesn't have any plans to leave again,_ didn't seem like it would work very well.

'Why don't you make _him_ do the explaining?' Michiko demanded in a low growl. 'He didn't have the decency to stay dead, did he?'

Itachi turned in slight surprise. 'Why are _you_ so vicious all of a sudden? Last think I knew, you were still all lovey-dovey with him, and now you're willing to turn him into metaphoric meatballs.'

Michiko scowled. 'I'm _trying_ to make it up to you. If you don't want me to…' She let the sentence hang ominously.

'No, no, it's all right. I was just curious, that's all.'

She didn't deign to answer that, and the conversation faded away. They were almost there anyway, and Itachi had to concentrate on the problem at hand. He lifted his hand to knock on the door, then remembered that he wouldn't be able to. With a grimace, he turned to look for something to use instead of his fist.

Eris popped into his field of vision, her lithe body navigating the sharp turn with ease. She stopped as she saw Deidara and lifted her eyebrows. "You found a loophole?" she demanded. "Or are you just incredibly unlucky?"

"The latter, I think. You didn't tell us you had a brother."

She bared her lips in a growl. "Ripowal? You met him?"

Deidara nodded.

"And he sent you back?"

Deidara nodded again.

Eris' scowl deepened into a hideous glower of fury. "That _bastard_! This is just like him! I bet he told you about the last one, didn't he?"

"He mentioned something about you begging him not to kill the last one, but…"

"I knew it! If he wasn't already God of the Dead, I'd damn him to the seventh circle of hell!"

Itachi, who had been having more than a little trouble following this conversation, decided it was time to reassert his authority. "Eris, what's going on?"

"My dearest darlingest brother stole something from me centuries ago, and now he's decided to give it back in a twisted and probably perverted way."

"What, Deidara?"

"Yes."

Itachi's eyebrows rose. "That _is_ perverted."

"Hey!"

"What is going on out here?"

They all whirled to see Sir Leader standing in the doorway to his office, his hands on his hips. "Deidara, welcome back."

"I didn't volunteer to come, Sir."

Eris smirked. "As my brother likes to say, 'life is just what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.'"

Sir Leader glanced at her, then away, clearly deciding _not_ to ask. "Do you intend to return to active duty?"

"I… do I have the choice?"

"You always have a choice," Sir Leader informed him with a razor's edge of a smile.

"I'll join again."

"Excellent. Eris, he will be your partner."

"Me?! But… Sasori…"

"…will work with Zetsu from now on."

Eris scowled again. "Why me?" she demanded in a tone that, had she been anyone but who she was, would have been described at petulant.

"Because you killed him, therefore you should be the one to welcome him back to the world of the living."

'He makes it sound like a reward,' Itachi murmured silently to Michiko. She nodded back.

"_And what if we don't want to work with Sasori?_ We work fine on our own!"

"I do not recall asking for your opinion, Zetsu. Indeed, I am fairly certain I did not. You will work with Sasori from now on and that is final. Is there anything else?"

Sensing the danger, they all shook their heads.

"Excellent. Now _go_!"

They went. As they left, Itachi heard Eris murmur under her breath, "I'm going to _kill_ Ripowal." He decided not to ask.


	10. Michiko's Happy Story

_Well, it is I once more... thesepeopleareus! Anyway, I have to admit that I terribly enjoyed writing this, because I know you'll be rather surprised. Michiko, Maddie (sorta), Eris, and Ripowal are mine. This means everyone else belongs to_ Masashi Kishimoto_, the actual creator of _Naruto_. And no, I am not Kishimoto. I mean, dudes, this is _fanfiction_.net; do you expect it to be anything _but_ fanfiction?_

* * *

Michiko Cries Out in Indignation and Reclaims Control of the Happy Story

Michiko was really beginning to hate that oven. It was like some sort of contemptible entity that spewed out those clichéd ghosts from one's past, except hers were only a few days old when they came back.

No, even better; it was like some sort of parody of an oven – someone dies and a few days later out pops a fresh ghost, ready to skew with the vague semblance of a readjusted life she had managed to piece together. Like losing the piece of that puzzle that scared you half to death as a child and then it turns up again, but now it's all wet and it doesn't fit in its slot anymore. So now the puzzle of your life has a frightening _and_ wet piece trying to force itself into place.

And it got even harder once she realized she couldn't even keep track of where either of them were anymore. They were as quiet as – ha – ghosts, and they didn't have a smell. Not that they were devoid of smell (it was easy to spot Eris because she was a moving void), but because smells passed right through them, just like everything else. When they actually spoke to her she could pinpoint them, but never when they didn't hail her specifically.

It frightened her.

Not because she was a wuss, though. Imagine having several people around, you have little idea how they will behave and you have no idea where they are unless they want you to.

See?

Itachi, though, had found that through severe concentration that he claimed would break a lesser man, he could actually make himself more solid. He was never complete, but touching him was more like trying to force through some breed of thick putty rather than just another slice of air. Usually he opted to stay non-corporeal because the alternative left him perpetually exhausted. So they saved it, for when he would have been exhausted anyway.

Deidara… was better. Than he had been, that is. It was actually somewhat near enjoyable talking to him, about anything, anything at all. Whenever Itachi wasn't around. Otherwise she was with him, always. Almost like he didn't trust her or something.

Funny thing, she couldn't imagine why… Honestly…

But she liked it like that; she tried to keep it so wherever Itachi was, Deidara wasn't. Because whenever they were in the same room she sort of faded into the background and it was just the two of them all, like, "grr".

This in mind, Michiko still hadn't thought anything of finding Deidara out by the rabbit pen and having a little chat while she drank.

"…No, so the guy said that straight to my face, and I'm like, 'I'd rather chew glass.'" She laughed, taking another bite into her chosen rabbit, a solid white one named Murphy, who had stopped twitching a minute ago. She set him down within easy reach and stretched out again, positioned as if to make a grass angel.

Deidara laughed too, clinging to the surface of the wall. "A classic example of 'Friends Don't Let Friends Drink and Talk'."

Michiko laughed again, absorbing the rare perfection of the conversation. For once nothing had gone sour, nothing had gone off course, nothing had gotten awkward. Just friends, each talking the other's ears off.

"Hey, lovebirds," came Itachi's voice right by her ear, as if he had just risen up out of the ground. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had, but she didn't let it startle or aggravate her.

"Oh, hey!" she smiled turning her head to face his general direction. She felt a brief tingle overtake her lips, like whenever he went through her.

"Hey, Itachi…" Deidara's voice had a curious chortle to it, but Michiko dismissed it. It was just left over from their last bout of laughter.

"What's up?" she asked, inching her head forward until she felt the tingle again. "You staying out here? Or are you going back inside? The first one is the correct answer, hint hint."

"Oh, no, I just wanted to know how you were doing…" he informed her, trying not to mumble.

"Oh, such a _liar!_" Deidara exclaimed, and Michiko could hear him smirking from ear to ear. "The only reason you're out here is because you're just jealous that your girl is having a civil conversation with another guy. A former lover, no less."

Michiko bristled, glancing ineffectively at him out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't see him, of course, but his voice was full of a mocking smile. She was getting a chill from Itachi, though, which was beginning to worry her.

"Okay, maybe I am. Wanna tell me what was with that smug little grin back there?"

"I… um, have to go…" Michiko mumbled, trying to slink away before it got any worse and they used her as a tool with which to verbally beat each other.

"Oh, no, please stay, Michiko," Deidara insisted with a harsh cheeriness that compelled her to stop. "This shouldn't take long."

"_What_ shouldn't take long?" Itachi demanded. "Is this the only reason you came back? To try tearing us apart again?"

"I only hope the irony of this situation isn't wasted on you," Deidara replied drolly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Itachi huffed.

"Oh, come _on_, you aren't _that_ blind, are you? Hm, lets see now… 'I'm so sad Michiko doesn't love me anymore, I'll go pin myself to a tree. No, wait, instead I'll come back and ruin any chance Deidara might have had with her, because _that'll_ make my suicide worthwhile!'"

"Shut up, that's completely different."

"Oh _how?_" Deidara snapped.

"…Michiko, tell him."

"What?" she asked, startled. "Don't drag me into this; I'm just an innocent bystander…"

"Yeah, good gods," Deidara snorted. "Can't you see she doesn't enjoy it when you go picking fights with the other children?"

"You say that like it's _my_ fault you came back."

"I didn't come back! I was _sent_ back by Eris' stupid brother! D'you think I _wanted_ to stay here?" Michiko was surprised at the bitter sadness in his tone. "The only reason I'm still here is because I wanted to see if what you two have is _worth_ what you did to me… And as much as I hate to admit it, it is…"

The next time she heard him he was right in front of her:

"So don't screw this up, okay? I don't know, but somehow he brings out the best in you. You know, the part that isn't a bloodsucking lunatic? It's good for you."

By the time she blinked he wasn't there anymore.

"I had no intention of returning to try and win her back, so no, this isn't some kind of revenge, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't do anything to deserve it.."

There was a pause, in which Michiko picked up a tenuous rage, but it fell apart when Deidara picked up again.

"So you don't screw this up, either. She's sacrificing a lot for your dead self, so give her a break, huh? …Or, you know, I'm going to have to come back and kick both your asses. …So I guess what I'm sort of trying to say is, you dolts have my blessing… You know, in case you cared."

Michiko almost could have cried if she hadn't loathed the very notion; it was the kind of thing you only read about in stories with ridiculously soppy names, like "Happy Story". She reached out until she felt the spot where her hand started to tingle and hugged him.

"That was very big of you," she whispered warmly, trying not to go completely through him.

"Ha, did you hear that?" he asked himself when she pulled away and smiled. "She thinks I'm big."

Her smile cracked a little, but she laughed anyway. She nodded at him to Itachi, who totally wasn't picking up the hint.

"Oh! That reminds me!" She didn't hear anything else aside from a muted whispering until his voice got louder again. "…but then again, would you really be that surprised?" Deidara asked roguishly, completing a thought she apparently wasn't allowed to hear.

"Um, th-thanks?" Itachi ventured.

"Nah, don't mention it! Well, you two have my permission to start kissing each other senseless now. Bye!"

Michiko glanced shrewdly at where Itachi seemed to be. "Do I want to know?"

"Er…"


	11. Sasori's Bicker Happy Story

Wow

_Wow... this looked so much longer as a Word... so obviously this is just a pathetic excuse for moving the story forward until Draco'sgirl does the next bit, which will be Kisame's POV (just in case you haven't figured out that the cycle is repeating). So... enjoy the wonderful goddess vs. puppet master dialogue! XD_

Sasori Sighs Reluctantly and Makes a Last Effort to Manipulate the Happy Story

"Ugh! I hate him so much! He's so… arrogant! And twisted! He thinks that ever since I got banished he can totally do whatever he wants!"

"Eris, calm down," Sasori sighed. "Actively hating him won't change anything." He didn't quite understand what had gotten her so upset. Well, he knew what, he just didn't know _why_. "Besides, he can't be that bad; isn't he technically the only reason I'm still here?"

"Oh yeah," she snorted. "Once he was finished mocking me thoroughly and making sure I knew who was the older sibling, after I go actually _begging_ him to give you back. What a charming fellow. I'm _so_ glad we're related."

Obviously he had overstepped that one. This was probably just one of those times when she was suffering from chaotic withdrawal and _wanted_ to be mad, just to make herself feel better.

"Eris, it can't be that bad. Shouldn't you be pleased that Deidara's back? Doesn't that mean a little more chaos for you to enjoy?"

"Apparently not," she muttered viciously. "Ripowal must have done something to him, messed with his head. Did you know earlier today there was actually a little confrontation? And do you know what he did?"

"What?" he asked wearily, knowing full well that she didn't need any encouragement from him to keep going.

"_Nothing!_ He _completely_ backed down, like some sort of custard! He's spineless now, I tell you! _Spineless!_"

"Ah, Eris, ease up on the volume."

"Shut up, you bastard. You can't _feel_ anything."

"Touché."

"Gods, what do you know, anyway? Everything is so… so _calm_. I mean, Kisame has Maddie, Itachi has Michiko, –"

"I have you."

"Yes, and Deidara is, somehow, perfectly fine with being all by himself. I'm telling you, Sasori, Ripowal did something. That's the only explanation; he knew that this new Deidara would annoy the hells out of me, and that's why he sent him back."

Sasori knew he would most likely regret it, but he was going to try something revolutionary. He was getting sick of waiting for her to come back down to earth, so he would suggest something no one else would have dared.

"Eris, is it possible you're wrong?"

He tensed at the glare she shot him, laced with venom, daggers and other various pointy weapons. "Well, isn't it? Isn't it possible Deidara just got smart all of a sudden?" He could have laughed at himself. _Deidara? Got _smart? _Right, and somewhere there's a whole herd of pigs taking flight._

"Sasori, listen to yourself. Something has _got_ to be up. If it isn't, life is going to be far too peaceful for me."

"Oh no, peace and quiet," he mumbled sarcastically, "whatever shall we do?"

"Well, _I'll_ be gone, for one thing. There's no way I can survive in a place so sickeningly un-chaotic."

Sasori winced; that would be sad. There was something unexplainable about her, something strange that drew him inexorably toward her, like a puppet on a string.

He had noticed that. She had to create chaos in order to be happy, and so she manipulated people until everyone around her devolved into mass mayhem with an undercurrent of panic. She was a much more subtle puppet master, but a master nonetheless.

"Unless I can fix something…" There she went again. "Sasori? I'm going to go talk to Deidara. Maybe I can set something up for Kisame, too," she added under her breath. And she gave him this look. Not quite a "thank you", but more like a "you have inspired me to create chaos, you're such a good little minion."

It severely disgruntled him. Smirking ever so slightly, he made a casual flick of his wrist and set an intricate web of charka strings on her as she floated to the door, halting her immediate movement.

"No, you're not," he told her, even under the force of another glare. She cocked her head when he forced a little bit of whine into his tone. "You've hardly spoken to me since Itachi came back, and now Deidara's here you're going to start all over again, with the ignoring and such. You're supposed to love me, in case you forgot."

"No, you are _not_ going to guilt me into staying. I am the Goddess of Chaos and Destruction; I cannot be guilted. And you want me to be happy, right? The chaos will make me happy. I really have to get this started if I want it snowballing by tomorrow morning, and if I don't I won't have anything done until this evening at the latest." She shrugged, which was impressive considering the network of puppet strings on her. "I'm sorry, you're just too big a distraction, Sasori. Release me," she added with a more threatening undertone, flashing the grey-lashed charcoal eyes at him.

A distraction. He was a distraction? He was just something that got in the way of her plans? Her stupid plans? He was an annoyance that she needed to brush aside? A little mite that kept her waiting?

No. She would not refuse him and keep him waiting in the dark while she destroyed the lives of everyone around them. Even if she was a goddess, ageless and timeless, she had chosen the guise of a child. And no mere child would deny him, keep him from what he wanted.

Brat. She altered people's lives, but he altered their actions. His smirk hardened and he yanked her closer, gleaning a small pleasure watching her neck snap back.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, trying to sound impartial and haughty, but there was an audible tremor in her voice.

"I, dear Eris, am doing what I do best," he returned, pulling her steadily nearer. "You see, while we are both masters in our chosen fields, those fields differ ever so slightly. Yours tends to give you satisfaction in the long run, while mine," he concluded, landing her on the bed with a final jerk, "pays off _right now_."


	12. Kisame's Blue Happy Story

_Well I figured I'd return the favor and write Draco'sgirl's A/N for her... Honestly, though, I have no idea where this came from... Maddie is gonna be so _pissed!_ And I'm not even sure if I mean the character__ Maddie__ or the actual Maddie...!_

_Tell me I'm not the only person who picked up the whole kitchen thing...?_

* * *

Kisame Wades into the Fray, Gnashing his Teeth and Demanding to be Given the Happy Story

Kisame distrusted calm. Living in the same vicinity as Eris, he had to. She thrived on chaos and destruction, and when the base was notably lacking in both… well, it tended to make one wary. Kisame couldn't help feeling like a victim of an earthquake: he was delighted that the quake itself was over, but he lived in fear of the aftershock. And, unlike with an earthquake, which tended to bleed itself out, the longer Eris waited, the worse the inevitable explosion would be.

So, as the third day of relative peace rolled around, he couldn't help hoping it would break _soon_. He didn't want to deal with an unstoppable onslaught of mass hysteria. He would settle for, "pretty big but not quite massive." Of course, at his core, he really didn't expect the chaos to affect _him_. Why should it? Eris liked playing with _Deidara_, not with him. Now, with the third side of the Deidara-Michiko-Itachi triangle returned to its proper place, albeit slightly sloppily, like a small child's art project, Eris should have had endless hours of amusement. Though, come to think of it, Deidara _had_ been acting strange lately. Stranger than usual, that is. In fact, he'd been acting almost… normal? No rants about the beauty and superiority of his "art," no long, smoldering looks at Michiko through excessively puppy-like eyes… nothing. He hadn't _quite_ gotten to the drinking coffee and reading the news stage, but, had he been solid, Kisame suspected he would eventually have gotten there. It was more than a little disconcerting.

He looked up from the raw fish he was methodically slicing when a shadow blocked the scant sunlight coming in through the small window.

"Hello Konan. I haven't seen you around lately."

She shrugged, walking silently farther into the kitchen. "I've been busy."

He nodded, turning back to his fish. That was about as much out of Konan that anyone but Sir Leader tended to get. He expected her to get whatever she wanted from the cupboards and go back to wherever she kept herself, but she didn't. Instead, she crossed to stand next to Kisame, not saying anything, but still watching him. Her eyes were the same shade as her hair, he noticed, then asked himself sternly why he cared. It wasn't like he even liked her… right?

"Can I, um, help you with anything?"

She hesitated, then seemed to throw her caution to the wind with an, "oh, what the hells?" type of shrug.

"What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Kissing a ghost?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You heard me."

"It's… interesting. Why do you ask?"

"Do you miss kissing normal people?"

Kisame chose not to comment on the irony of the statement, coming as it did from Konan, one of the many less-than-traditionally normal people, a category in which he firmly placed himself. Instead, he tried to guess her motives for asking the question. Her frank, slightly apathetic tone spoke of nothing but idly morbid curiosity. On the other hand, this was _Konan_. For her to come out of her customary seclusion, it would take more than curiosity, however morbid.

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Oh."

They were silent for a little while longer, and Kisame tried to concentrate on his fish, doing his best to ignore the blue-haired girl next to him. A very _close_ next to him. He fixed Maddie's face in his mind and ferociously _didn't_ think about Konan.

All his efforts were wasted as he turned to tip the fish into the frying pan. She was there, her eyes wide and her hands trembling very slightly. She took his hand, disrupting the careful spooning of fish into the pan. One of the pieces fell into the pan, then bounced into the open gas flame, sputtering wildly. Kisame didn't notice the metaphor, transfixed as he was by the feel of her hand on his.

Somewhere in the depths of his mind, a warning bell went off as she closed the gap between them, but he was too enthralled to notice. She gently touched her mouth to his, growing more frenzied as she went. His breath caught and he felt himself returning the kiss with equal intensity.

They broke apart, their breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Even as he said it, Kisame felt himself take a step towards her, fish forgotten.

"No one has to know." She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

He couldn't deny the truth of that, and he wouldn't have cared even if it wasn't true. She was irresistible, the worst kind of temptress. True, she was beautiful, but it was more her irrevocable innocence, the aura of fragility she managed to project even when he knew _exactly_ what she was capable of. The excruciating pain she could cause him if she so wished was immaterial. He still felt drawn to protect her.

The fire sputtered loudly, momentarily jerking his attention away from the cerulean-haired siren before him. He flooded the fire, not really caring how much damage he did to the stove in the process. The stove didn't matter, in the long run. Sir Leader would be pissed, but…

His head jerked up with an almost audible snap as he realized where that train of thought would lead him. Pissed. Sir Leader. Oh _shit_!

"What?" Konan's voice murmuring in his ears almost distracted him from his horrible realization, but not quite.

"Sir Leader is going to _kill _us."

Her own breath caught, ever so slightly, but she regained her composure almost instantaneously. "Pein's a big boy. He can take it."

Kisame scowled. "He is the _Leader_. I am his subordinate. I'd like to keep having a house to live in, thanks all the same."

"He won't kick you out. You're fairly indispensable."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I doubt it."

She shook her head. "Trust me on this, Kisame. You'll keep your job and your room."

"And my sanity? I don't know about you, but I'd _really_ rather not test that theory."

She sighed, but drew away. He felt an odd, almost physical pain at the loss of contact, and he could tell she noticed it. Her lips curled into a slight smirk. "Not even for this?" She kissed him again, melding her body to his own, trying to prove that he could no longer function without her. And, he had to admit, she was right. Her touch brought instantaneous relief from the pain of separation, something Maddie's non-corporeal form had never quite managed to do.

He knew he should argue more, knew that he shouldn't just accept this, but he couldn't. Something wouldn't let him.

Suddenly, Konan drew away, her face pale and her eyes wide.

Knowing what he would find and dreading it, Kisame turned to face the door.

"What in gods' names is going on here?"


	13. Maddie's Gaping Happy Story

_Author's note: look, i'm back. yup, it's Draco'sgirl again. and just so you know, i have NO clue where this came from. i'm tired and bored and... yeah. let us know what you think!  
and, yes, we are well aware of the fact that we don't own naruto. did you think that we would have made naruto as annoying as he is if we did?  
--kyra and **Tamara**_

* * *

Maddie Heads Back to the Happy Story, Yanking it from Kisame's Grasp and Continuing it Herself

"What in gods' names is going on here?"

Maddie could hardly believe what she was seeing. Kisame and Konan, shoved together like some sort of distorted, two headed animal. Heck, they even sort of _looked_ alike, with their matching blue hair. But that wasn't the point. The point was that Kisame was _Maddie's_ partner, not Konan's! How _dare_ he do this to her?!

"Ah… hi, Maddie."

She ignored him, gliding closer to them and clenching her fists. Usually, she didn't mind being a ghost, but now, she would have given just about anything to be solid, even for one fleeting moment, just so that she could slap him. Hard. And then slap him again. Harder.

"Konan, what is going on here?"

Everyone turned to see Sir Leader standing in the doorframe, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

Konan looked from him to Maddie to Kisame and back again, then carefully extracted herself from Kisame's grasp. Maddie didn't fail to notice the audible noise of displeasure from her supposed dearly beloved that accompanied this action. She scowled.

"Well? I am waiting with baited breath for an explanation."

"It was my fault." They all turned to stare at Kisame. "I seduced her. I apologize. I will accept my punishment without complaint."

Konan's eyes flickered quickly between Kisame and Sir Leader, but she didn't say anything.

"Well Konan? Is this the truth?"

"Yes, Sir." Her voice was a mere whisper, but it contained nothing but shame-filled honesty.

Sir Leader turned back to scowl at Kisame. Maddie, despite her fury, couldn't help feeling slightly sorry for her one-time love. She would hate to have Sir Leader look at _her_ like that!

Sir Leader turned towards Maddie, surprising everyone in the room.

"Would you like some say in the punishment?"

Maddie considered. Finally, she nodded.

"Then I will leave Kisame up to you. Come to me when you are finished with him, and I will devise a suitable punishment."

"Thank you, Sir." Maddie bowed to him, already plotting fiendishly. One thing she knew for certain: Kisame was going to pay for this, and he was going to pay dearly.

"Konan, come with me."

Konan stepped away from Kisame with obvious reluctance, completely undermining her whole "damsel in distress" act. Maddie sincerely hoped Sir Leader hadn't fallen for it. True, he was _supposed_ to be in love with the little bitch, or something like that, but even so! He was supposed to be the leader of a great criminal organization. People like that didn't fall for bad acting, even when the person doing the acting was their supposed girlfriend.

They exited the kitchen, leaving Maddie and Kisame alone.

"Maddie…"

"Be quiet. You really don't have anything to say to me right now."

"I was just wondering how you were going to kill me."

Her eyes gleamed fiercely. "Oh, I'll think of something, don't worry."

"The anticipation is killing me already."

"No it's not. Shut up and let me think."

He shut up, much to her relief. She turned her back on him, biting her nails in an effort to think of _something_ to do to him. What was the appropriate punishment in this kind of situation, anyway? Punishment by abstinence wasn't really appropriate, since there wasn't really any way she could enforce it. He certainly wouldn't be doing anything with _her_, but, then, he couldn't anyway, so it was pointless. Actually physical pain wouldn't work either, for the same reason. At times, being immaterial was _highly_ inconvenient.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"No."

"Fine then. I just thought you'd like to know that there's a knife on that counter over there, if you're at all interested."

She was, but she couldn't use that now. He'd ruined it by pointing it out to her. Only an idiot or a desperate person used weapons pointed out by their victims, and Maddie was neither.

"I thought I told you I didn't want you opinion."

"Just being helpful."

"I don't want your help. Just… just sit there and let me think!"

He did as she commanded. At least, she hoped he did. She didn't actually turn around to check.

After a long while, he began to speak. She didn't listen to him at first, but the words continued to knock at her skull until she had no choice but to give in and hear what he was telling her.

"… and I really didn't mean for it to happen. I promise I didn't. It just… I just… what am I saying? It's not like you're going to _believe_ me or anything. But I just have to tell you: I don't love her. I love you. You probably don't care right now, and I don't blame you, but it's the truth. And I realize that I'll probably come out of here missing several important parts of my anatomy, at least, but I suppose I've earned it. I mean, what are you supposed to think? I really wouldn't blame you for hating me right about now. I'd hate me, in your place. But I want to earn your forgiveness. Just tell me what I can do, Maddie."

She wanted to tell him to shut up, wanted to close herself off to all emotions and go back to basking in the warmth of utter fury, but she couldn't. His words hit a chord within her, one that she couldn't ignore.

"Did you really seduce her?"

"No."

"Then why did you say you did?"

He shrugged helplessly. "If I tell you I don't know, will you believe me?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Why did you do it, Kisame?"

"I… I had to."

She clenched her fists, noting with interest that her jagged nails could still cut into her skin.

"Would you care to elaborate on that statement?"

To his credit, he gave it some serious consideration. Finally, he sighed. "Being with Konan is like being with a very small child. You want to protect her, even though you know you don't have to. Something about her forces you to think that she's helpless and that you need to make sacrifices to keep her from getting into trouble. It's like you and kittens."

She grimaced. Unfortunately, it actually made sense. She'd seen Konan and, even though Maddie hated the other woman, she couldn't deny the odd charisma. Even _she_ wanted to protect her at times, and she really couldn't blame Kisame for the lapse. Despite his less than normal appearance, he was very much a male, and the combination of beauty and vulnerability was deadly.

"So, how are you going to torture me? Or am I off the hook?"

She forced her mind back to the present. Just because she empathized with him didn't mean she was letting him walk away! "In your dreams!"

He grinned. "If I told you my dreams were about you, would that help?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"No."

"You wound me, Maddie. Will you ever forgive me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On how I feel at any given moment."

"Wait, isn't there anything _I_ can do?"

"I think you've done _more_ than enough, don't you?"

"I suppose, but…"

"But nothing. And I thought you were supposed to be being quiet."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"No you're not."

"You're right. I'm not."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. Finally, she sighed. "You're nowhere _near_ off the hook," she warned, "but you might actually walk out of here."

"Really?"

"Might."

"Oh."

She nodded, then closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to shout.


	14. Eris' Conniving Happy Story

_Author's note: look, it's me again! yup, Draco'sgirl, back to talk about the last chapter i wrote. and yes, this part was indeed fun to write. eris is exceedingly entertaining to write.  
unfortunately, it _still_ doesn't belong to me. -sigh-  
--kyra_

* * *

Eris Realizes How Little Chaos is Really Left in the Happy Story and Zooms Back Urgently to Create More

"… And I trusted you! I trusted you to stay with _me_, and what do you do? You go off with some blue-haired slut and perform unnamed and unwanted acts of lust in the kitchen. Above an open flame, no less! Can you think what could have happened? Granted, then we'd both be ghosts, but it's the principle of the thing! I mean, how would you feel if it had been _me_?"

"You and Konan?" Kisame's voice was soft, and Eris doubted that Maddie could hear him, but she, with her superhuman hearing, had no trouble.

Oblivious, Maddie continued to rant, her voice varying slightly in pitch and volume, but not really in content. After several more minutes of listening to things along the same vein, Eris floated away, feeling slightly dissatisfied. They _sounded_ genuine, but her infallible chaos sense was telling her something was off. It was almost more like a well-rehearsed dance than a proper argument.

The sound of the bickering, or supposedly bickering couple faded behind her as she got farther away from the kitchen. As she headed towards her rooftop haunt, she wondered briefly if there was anything specific about the kitchen that incited this kind of event. She hadn't thought of kitchens as particularly lustful rooms, but apparently she'd been wrong. Or maybe the Akatsuki were just weird that way. She wouldn't put it past them to suddenly develop an odd trend towards using other rooms for things other than their intended purpose. She was speculating with some interest as to the potential chaos caused by consuming meals in the bathroom when the sight of a potential victim brought her up short.

He glided vaguely through the hall, his blond hair drooping slightly over one eye, looking frighteningly like the depressed emo Maddie had jokingly called him.

"Deidara!"

He looked up, frowning slightly. "What do you want?"

She grinned, beckoning. He came slowly, apathy almost dripping from his form. She looked at him in disgust, wondering why she'd even bothered trying to do anything with this pathetic lump of former humanity. But, now that she'd summoned him, she couldn't very well send him away again and keep her pride intact, so she had to keep going. She began to improvise.

"I was rooting for you the entire time, you know."

"What?"

"With Michiko. Don't you think you're better for her than Itachi is?"

"…"

"Well?"

He sighed. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because she opens like some kind of fucking _flower_ when she's with him, maybe? And because she's made it _quite_ clear that she wants absolutely nothing more to do with me other than as something to talk to when _he's_ not available?"

Eris grimaced. "And you're just going to back down? Since when do _you_ back down to anyone?"

"Since I died and was forced to come back because of _your_ brother?"

"Don't bring Ripowal into this! This has absolutely nothing to do with Ripowal and everything to do with your absolute lack of anything even remotely resembling a backbone!"

He winced slightly, but proved said lack by doing absolutely nothing to defend himself.

Eris grimaced. This was even worse than she'd feared. If she stood here arguing with him for much longer, then she would miss Itachi and Michiko and thereby miss a prime opportunity to sough chaos and/or mayhem. Hopefully both.

"Look. Open your ears and listen to me, okay?"

He nodded, looking slightly confused.

"You are the one who should be with her, not him. Got it? And I am going to do everything I can to make that happen. You're my new project. You're entitled to feel flattered now, by the way."

He didn't look flattered in any way, but at least he was beginning to react.

"That being said, if Itachi isn't made miserable very, _very_ soon, I will lose interest in them and start messing with your sad attempts at producing culinary delights. Therefore, it's in your best interest to go goad Itachi into action, preferably action with some kind of violence included, and win back the heart of your fair maiden."

"Who?"

"Michiko!"

"Oh. Since when is she a virgin?"

"It's a figure of speech, you idiot. Do we have a deal?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then you already know my answer."

"It's always nice to hear it."

He scowled, but obliged. She grinned in a supremely smug and self-satisfied manner.

"What are you waiting for? Go off and take her back!"

His scowl deepened, but he went to do as she bid, muttering under his breath about Goddesses with more attitude than brains with far too much time on their hands. She watched him go, satisfied that, on this end, at least, things were working out. Now all she had to do was convince Itachi…

"I have no interest in your plans, Eris."

Eris growled under her breath. Of all of them, Itachi was the one who had the most ability to make her feel like the child she appeared to be. No matter how much she tried to tell herself that he was just a mortal… well, a ghost now, but it was the same idea, he still made her feel like a child who'd gotten the answer wrong on a very important test, no mean feat, considering Eris had no prior experience on which to base said feeling.

"Don't you? Then I suppose Deidara will win. Again."

He scowled, muttering things she would rather not have heard under his breath. Finally, he looked back at her. "Would you perhaps care to explain yourself a tad more clearly, Eris?"

She smiled, sensing that she'd won. "Deidara will try and take Michiko back in a matter of mere hours. Unless you're there to stop him, he'll have a fair shot at her. Knowing Michiko and her… fluctuating emotions, would you care to test her affection for you?"

"Michiko loves me." Was it just her imagination, or did he sound very slightly apprehensive?

"You think so. She might even think so… right now. But you've seen how Deidara affects her emotional control. Would you care to witness a return of the extended make-out scene? I think Maddie and Kisame have vacated the kitchen."

"You're treading on dangerous ground, Eris. If you were alive…"

"I am alive. You, however, are not. Besides, your Sharingan never did affect me."

"I have other ways of causing pain, you know."

"Of causing _me_ pain? Somehow, I doubt it."

He muttered yet more obscenities under his breath, but didn't deny the fact that she had a point.

"So, unless you feel some burning need to commit suicide again – which you'd better not! – then I'd suggest you go off and find Deidara and tell him exactly how much Michiko loves you."

"And how much will I regret this?"

"Depends on what you regret, I suppose. Frankly, I wouldn't think you'd regret any of it. After all, _you're_ the one defending your loved one's virtue, right?"

"Virtue?"

"You know what I meant."

There was a long silence. Finally, "Where is Deidara?"

Eris was hard pressed to contain her cackle of elation. It was working! "I assume he's stalking the hallways, looking for Michiko."

Without bothering to thank her, not that she'd expected him to, he charged away towards the base, presumably intending to find Deidara and explain a few things to him. Preferably with the use of force. Eris wondered suddenly whether he could pull his katana out from his chest, and what would happen if he stuck it into Deidara. Grinning at the prospect, she followed.

She found Itachi quickly enough, though Deidara was still MIA. With a frown, she passed through the wall in search of her missing play-thing, leaving Itachi to wander forlornly through the halls.

He sat in the disaster that was his room, looking out the window. Eris couldn't help but be impressed by the wreck Maddie had made of it. The girl had potential as an actual threat, judging from the havoc she'd wreaked on the innocent bedding.

"What are you waiting for?"

He glanced up at her. "Oh, it's you."

"No, it's the tooth fairy. Of _course_ it's me!"

"What do you want?"

"Itachi's looking for you, you know."

"Why's he looking for me?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because he got wind of our little plot to steal his girlfriend?"

"Oh yeah? And just _how_ did he get wind of said little plot?"

"How should I know!? Maybe he levitated himself and spied on us? Or maybe Zetsu told him."

"Zetsu?"

"Why not Zetsu? He watches almost as much as I do! And anyway, that's not the point! The point is that if you want her back, you'll have to go and fight him for her. And there's no reason to put it off. He's there, you're here, I don't know _where_ Michiko is, so why not get it over with?"

He looked at her with no little suspicion, but sighed and heaved himself up off the bed. Eris noted with interest that he seemed to have picked up Maddie's trick of almost sitting on something without actually touching it.

"Where is he?"

"I assume he's somewhere. In fact, if you're _very_ lucky, he might be right outside."

"And that makes me lucky _why_?"

"Because then I'll stop bugging you about getting off your lazy behind and fighting him?"

"I suppose that counts. So, you say he's right outside the door?"

"If you're lucky, which you don't tend to be."

He scowled at her. "Remind me again why I agreed to do this?"

"Because I won't shut up until you do."

"Oh. Right."

Deidara glided out through the door, Eris on his heels. She noticed with some interest that, while he went through the door – courtesy of being less than solid – the door went through _her_ – courtesy of being _more_ than solid. She quickly lost interest in that train of thought as Deidara ran smack into Itachi, his hair bouncing wildly as he struggled to keep his balance. Eris subtly faded into the wall, deciding that it would be better to let them proceed unaided for a little while. No point in letting them know they'd been double-crossed just yet, after all.

"What are you doing here?" Itachi snarled, managing to look both threatening and bored at the same time.

"Looking for you." Deidara completely disregarded any attempts at composure, choosing instead to go for flat out passionate.

"You've found me. What is it that you wanted?"

"Michiko."

"What about her?"

"She's _mine_."

"Somehow, evidence suggests that you're wrong about that."

"She didn't have much choice, did she? I mean, you just barged in and took her. I bet you didn't even ask her opinion, did you?"

"I do not require constant reassurance. I know her feelings, just as she knows mine."

"Then why did she kiss _me_, hmm? If you ask me, she was enjoying it, too."

"That is immaterial."

"Is it? Then why don't we get her up here to tell us which one of us she prefers?"

Itachi hesitated. It was exceedingly slight, but it was a hesitation, and both Eris and Deidara noticed.

"Ha! You think I might be right, don't you?"

"Do you have anything useful to tell me?"

"You think I might be right, and you're afraid to ask her. Admit it, you think she might choose me!"

Itachi gifted Deidara with a look of withering scorn. "I am merely wondering how to dispose of the annoyance you have become."

"Resorting to threats, are you? Threats are the last resort of a man with no vocabulary."

"And I care about this why?"

Deidara scowled, and Eris suspected he was improvising and had been doing so for most of the conversation.

"So, are you even going to bother to ask her opinion?"

Itachi sighed and reached down to his chest, grasping his katana with a firm hand and pulling. Nothing happened. With a half puzzled, half irritated look, he pulled harder. Still nothing. He began to rock back and forth with the effort, giving the appearance of a stoned hippy doing a very odd dance to the God of Cocaine. Eris could hardly retain her laughter.

Deidara didn't even try. "Do you want some assistance?" he crowed, watching as the usually dignified Itachi spasmed across the expanse of the hall.

"I am – grunt – not in need – pant – of assistance – grunt – from anyone – gasp – especially not – curse – _you_!"

"If you say so…"

Deidara watched, still bubbling with hilarity, as Itachi finally gave up with a snarl.

"Are you _sure_ you don't need me…"

Itachi interrupted him with a firm punch in the gut. Deidara doubled over briefly, then bared his teeth in a silent snarl of satisfaction.

"Finally! I was beginning to think you'd _never_ get around to it!"

"I can do it again, if you want me to."

"Just try!"

Itachi tried. And succeeded. Deidara grimaced and swung back, bracing himself for the collision… that never happened? Eris frowned, leaning forward slightly to try and figure out what had happened. Deidara's fist had gone – _through_? – Itachi's stomach. What in her own name was going on?

Apparently Deidara didn't know anymore than she did, because he was staring at his fist with the air of one who has just been hit with a blunt object and hasn't quite accepted it yet.

Itachi didn't give him any more time to ponder, however, aiming a vicious kick right at Deidara's groin. Eris winced slightly in sympathy. That _couldn't_ have been pleasant.

Deidara, mastering his pain quickly, came back with an attempted retaliation, but, once again, his fist went through Itachi's head.

"What in the name of any god who cares to listen is going on?" Eris was fairly certain that Deidara's bullhorn roar could be heard by the entire base, and, she enough, Maddie appeared in the hallway, dragging a slightly disgruntled and more than slightly ruffled Kisame behind her. They stopped dead, staring.

"Itachi, what is going on?"

Itachi turned to glance at Kisame, his eyebrows vanishing into his hair. "What does it look like?"

"I can see what it _looks_ like," Kisame retorted. "But _why_?"

Maddie snorted. "Why do you _think_? In case you'd forgotten, both of them love the same girl."

"I don't see you and Konan going at it in the halls."

"Konan and I, Kisame, are _girls_."

"And what are you implying?"

"Merely that we of the female species are both subtler and more intelligent than you poor males. I fully intend to douse Konan's supper with something nasty."

"I heard that."

Maddie turned to see Konan coming up the stairs.

"Did you? Well then, I'll just have to think of something else, won't I?"

"You can _try_. But I'm older and more experienced than you are. You don't think you can trick _me_, do you?"

Maddie smiled, displaying perfect teeth, something of an odd counterpoint to Kisame's fangs. "Your flaw, Konan, is your overconfidence. Trust me, Sir Leader can't protect you all the time."

"You are implying that I cannot protect myself?"

"No, just that he has bodies to spare while you don't."

"Your point is?"

Maddie only grinned again. "Be patient. Wait until the men folk have finished attempting to kill each other – again – over _their_ object of mutual affection, and then we can deal with ours."

Konan nodded. "That seems fair. I'll go tell Pein that I will be otherwise occupied this evening."

"You do that. And I don't think bigamy on the side will be tolerated."

"It's not bigamy if you're not married."

"Good point. Even so, I doubt he'll approve."

"He's tough. He knows I'll come back to him when I've had my fun." Konan drifted away, presumably to inform Sir Leader of her newly made plans. Eris turned her attention back to the fight, which hadn't progressed much. Itachi was still dodging Deidara's every attempt to hit him, while delivering crushing blows whenever it was his turn.

Deidara suddenly turned and threw Itachi solidly into a wall and Itachi… bounced? Eris' eyes widened in shock. Ghosts were supposed to go _through_ the walls, not bounce off them… right?

"I knew it!" Deidara's triumphant bellow alerted any of the base not already surrounding the dueling specters. "I don't know how you're doing it, but you're _making yourself more solid_!"

"Your powers of observation blow me away," Itachi drawled, panting slightly. "Any more intelligent remarks to share before we end this?"

"Only this: she's _mine_!" With that, Deidara launched himself at Itachi, attacking savagely with any limb he happened to think of. It was almost better than Itachi's previous Cocaine-dance.

Itachi had started out looking smugly superior as Deidara's wild flailing went straight through him, but, very quickly, he began to show the strain of holding himself solid for this long. His expression didn't change, but, had he had fluids in his body, Eris was certain he would have been covered in sweat.

"I knew it! You can't keep that up for very long, can you? You're feeling the strain of it now, I bet. How long do you think you can keep this up, hmm? Ten seconds? Less?"

Itachi snarled and glanced around. With another growl, he bounded away from Deidara and landed a little ways away, near the ceiling.

"This is getting old."

"Then why don't you give up, hmm?"

Itachi didn't even bother to respond. Instead, he reached towards his side and unsheathed another katana, one apparently kept hidden throughout the entire fight. With blinding speed and pinpoint accuracy, he lodged it in Deidara's chest. The blonde ghost sputtered and fell backwards, hitting the floor and continuing to fall. Eris let herself drop to keep watching him. She'd never seen a ghost die before, and she was curious as to how it would work. Did they just dissipate in a puff of smoke? Or did they perhaps leave a ghostly body that would have to be disposed of. Maybe they could have a double grave: Deidara and ghost.

Suddenly, Deidara's limp form twitched. Ever so slowly, one hand crawled up his chest and pulled the katana out. As Eris watched, the wound in his chest reformed, not even leaving a scar. She whistled silently in appreciation. Apparently it wasn't that easy to kill a ghost.

Deidara shot up through the floor, Eris on his heels, to rejoin Itachi.

"What are you doing here?" Itachi demanded. "I killed you. Again."

"No, you merely caused me to be temporarily inconvenienced. It takes more than a knife through the heart to kill _me_."

Itachi sighed. "Shall we repeat the experiment to see if you'll get lucky a second time?"

"How? I have the knife in question."

"You think I don't have extras?"

"That _was_ your extra. The other one's in your own chest, remember?"

Before Itachi could answer, another figure walked purposefully towards the group. Her black hair was flowing freely down her back, and her pale face was drawn up in rage.

"What the hells do you two think you're doing?"


	15. Deidara's Final Happy Story

Well, now we've reached the final chapter

_Well, now we've reached the final chapter. How will it all culminate? How will it end? Will I ever get over my addiction to writing? Probably not! But let's read on and find out what happens to poor Deidara..._

Deidara Unwillingly has the Happy Story Forced upon him and Wonders Vaguely What to do Before his Sense of Purpose Returns

Deidara winced when Michiko's glare fell on him, but it hit them both in turn, and by look of things Itachi didn't enjoy it either.

"Scared I'll win?" he whispered, glancing cautiously at Michiko.

"Not in the least," Itachi replied. But his eyes didn't agree.

"Well?" Michiko demanded, coming to a stop mere feet away. "I'm still _waiting_ for an_ answer_."

Deidara was relieved it was directed at Itachi; he didn't think, after just having been killed again, he would have been able to withstand it. He could tell it was going only going to get worse though, because she had already entered the first stage: The Setting of The Mouth. Next came The Jutting of The Hip, and then The Crossing of The Arms, and then The Tapping of The Foot… and he had no wish to know if it went beyond that. Last time she had even gotten that far he had been pretty shaken, and he had only been a witness!

Itachi seemed as reluctant to speak as he was. "Um, just… settling something, finally." He avoided looking directly at her, becoming suddenly interested in a scuffmark on the floor. Deidara almost could have snickered if he hadn't been afraid of how Michiko would react.

"This 'something' wouldn't have anything to do with me, now would it?" Jut.

"Um, actually, it kind of sort of maybe does…?" Itachi projected while at the same time asking her about it.

"And why am I just now finding out?" Cross.

Deidara was getting anxious. He could hardly stand being left out of this thing that almost passed for a conversation, but he knew trying to enter could have disastrous consequences on how Michiko perceived him, and he really needed all the assurance he could get. Because deep down, hiding behind the trashcan in the corner of his soul, he was scared. Scared that Michiko wouldn't pick him, scared that she really didn't care, scared that he was only a substitute for use when Itachi wasn't there.

He pushed the thought aside.

"Um… because we didn't want to bother you?"

Obviously she would pick him. What was he thinking? She had been the one to come to _him_, kiss _him_, stand there holding _him_ while she trashed Itachi's self-esteem. In fact, if Itachi had just stayed dead, she would still have been with _him_.

'Yeah, key concept there being that once Itachi came back you were no longer needed,' the voice sneered. 'You –'

'If you keep ragging on him about it, he won't have a chance.'

Deidara was surprised; this was the first time in ages the other, meeker voice had made an appearance… figuratively speaking.

'You didn't let me finish!' the first voice snapped. 'I was _going_ to say that he needs to take charge if anything worthwhile is going to happen, but _never mind_. I'm out.'

He blinked. That had really been an almost pointless conversation, in which he had not even been included. How absurd!

"Really, it wouldn't have been a bother. What is it you wanted to settle?" Tap.

"Um… – "

"Which of us do you prefer?" Deidara asked quietly. He looked up and straight at her. "Who do you actually love?"

And there was apparently another step Michiko could follow on the road to cowing people thoroughly and shattering their self-confidence. It would be called The Raising of The Eyebrows While Still Scowling Slightly, Making You Feel Like a Total Dip-Shit.

She looked at him, just like that, and opened her mouth.

"Itachi."

His eyes got sucked into tunnel vision for a moment that hung there forever, but when he came out it made him even more conscious of the fact that _everyone else was there_. Everyone, watching him get publicly rejected and stomped on, like some sort of beat up rug.

And the way she had said it! There had been no hesitation, no pause for reflection. Just an immediate statement. And she had even managed to sound perplexed, as if wondering how he could possibly have thought otherwise. …_How?_ How could she have fit so much hurt into one name, three syllables?

"…But… But you said you loved me…?"

"I recall no such thing," she retorted, looking at him hard – as if she could see him – with her solid black eyes, like she was trying to figure out what he was getting at. Meanwhile, a smirking Itachi had floated over to her and proceeded to hang his arms around her neck like a scarf, glaring at him victoriously. "I told you I'd win," he seemed to say. "I'm never wrong."

"But it was implied…" he insisted brokenly, trying not to sound completely hopeless.

"Key word there being 'lied'."

Amazing, really, how she could still be clever while dissecting someone's heart. But Deidara felt like he was still absorbing the impact of her first answer, as if he needed an aftershock to be convinced there had even been an initial quake.

"But you loved me… It was you, and me, and I love you, and you loved me…"

"Not really," she said slowly, shaking her head. "It wasn't really… _real_ love. It was more like… physical love."

Deidara could see at this point Itachi was just getting annoyed, but he didn't really register that thought. It just sort of passed through his mind, waving goodbye as quickly as it had said hello.

"No it wasn't," he mumbled at her. "It was real. But the second _he_ came back, it wasn't there anymore. I just woke up and you were gone…"

"Deidara," she stated, speaking like one would to a stubborn child, "exactly what is it that you're not getting about this? You only ever even got a chance to think that because Itachi was dead."

There was something spiteful in that, but it still sounded like an absolute truth as it tumbled from her lips like an angel falling from grace.

_**Substitute.**_

The word blasted through his mind, leaving echoes to keep the wound from scarring over. She had never really loved him after all, or so she said. But it had felt so real…

"It did," he muttered to himself. "It felt so real…"

"It wasn't," she insisted. "I was just venting my romantic frustrations on you. Because Itachi was dead. I needed _some_body…"

It had all been just a game, and he had thought he was a player when he as really just a pawn. A stupid, lowly, only able to move one space at a time pawn. He was about to kick himself for being such a blind idiot when he stumbled upon a light, a strangled beacon of hope.

"But the reason Itachi died…" he spouted, mustering his enthusiasm once more. "Before he was dead, you kissed me. _Me_. And you _loved_ me."

"Again, Deidara; venting. I was just pissed about…" she paused and tilted her head back, accidentally going _through_ Itachi's head. "What was it again?"

"I don't remember," he replied offhandedly.

"Well, anyway, I was just pissed. It wasn't really something _real_… It was more of a fuck-off kiss."

"…You were telling me to fuck off?" Deidara was confused. It had been real, to him. And it hadn't exactly been a dissuading kind of kiss, either.

"No, I was telling Itachi to fuck off," she stated matter-of-factly.

"So… you _wanted_ him to walk in on us…?" And he had thought it was a simple thing: he loved her, she loved him…

"Let's not use the term 'us', but yes. You see, it was more to incite an argument. We seem to come together best after an argument… But then _some_body just _had _to go off and _kill_ himself!"

"I don't see why I should have to apologize," Itachi muttered mutinously. "I mean, how was I supposed to know you were just taunting me? I have to admit it looked pretty real from my perspective, too."

"But how could you even _think_ that could have been real?" she demanded.

"…Um, you're a good actress?"

"Thanks, but flattery will get you nowhere."

Deidara sighed. They were bickering like an old –

'NO! Don't even start thinking like that, or everything will have been pointless!'

"…So I was just a point of conflict?"

Michiko sighed and nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Although I'd be lying if I said I hadn't enjoyed it tremendously. I mean, kudos to you, but still, most of that came from the thrill."

Deidara blinked, and Itachi gave her an odd look as well. "The _thrill?_"

"Well, yes. Most of my participation came from my knowing that I was successfully luring you into a position of complacent feeding."

He blinked again.

"Shall I use small words, so even _you_ can understand? I just wanted you to _think_ you were getting something out of it, because I just wanted someone I could feed off of without complaining. And _now_ I have to go back to the rabbits, thanks to you two."

_It wasn't ever really about_ me. _It was about blood. You didn't really care what was happening, did you? It was all a blood-game, to see if I could be suckered into feeding you._

"It could have been anyone," he muttered, more as a statement than a question.

"Not necessarily. You made the most inviting target because I didn't know of anyone else who was so hopelessly infatuated with me I already had him wrapped around my finger. I didn't think anyone else would trip over himself just to be devoured."

Deidara felt something settling into his chest, something cold, like a frozen cat curling up around his vital organs and going to sleep, letting the chill sink in slowly, to give him frostbite from the inside out. He didn't have much of a frame of reference for it except other experiences with Michiko, but even so, none of the others had been this bad.

"…But –"

And Michiko seemed to snap, drawing in a quick breath to begin shouting. "Deidara, what part of this do you not understand?! I don't _love_ you! I _never loved_ you! You were my toy, something to amuse me! You were my emotional punching bag, except you enjoyed the punches! Itachi died and I needed a substitute, and you were closest thing I could get! Of course my feelings were taken into account, because once he was back all the dynamics changed! I didn't need you anymore, and what was that whole mature thing you had about backing off?! Was that some sort of diversion and you were plotting something all along?! I actually liked you for a while there, when you were being… _normal_, and I liked talking to you! I thought you were my friend, like my best friend! And then you _ruin it!_ I don't even wanna be your _friend_ anymore, you screw _everything_ up! Why don't you just _disappear?!_"

Deidara didn't even wince. He didn't have anything left in him that allowed him to wince. That cat had started using his insides as a personal scratching post, and he felt all frayed and shredded.

There was nothing really left of him. He could no longer even take solace in the fact that she had once loved him.

She had thoroughly destroyed him.

There was nothing left of _him_, only the shape held together by his mind, held there for eternity in the state of his death; unmarred, unmarked.

His mind, however, had not been able to take her constant, solid blows. His heart had gone and hid inside his head, emotions crumbling to dust like a once great civilization, and his mind had taken the brunt of her attacks.

And it wasn't his heart that kept his immaterial form from collapsing and drifting away.

It had been a pleasant tingle at first, the loss of feelings in his feet and hands. He couldn't even muster enough control to glance down, but he could guess what was happening, only because he knew it in his heart. He was fading away, becoming even more ghostly than before, enough so that his shape couldn't stay together, give itself support. He hardly even had a thought, now he was almost faded entirely.

He grinned slightly, in a very sad way, and looked at Michiko, the only thing he could see in his newest bout of tunnel vision.

_Disappear._

_Well, that's all, folks! Isn't that sad? And why do we enjoy doing such horrible things to Deidara? I think Eris puts it best: "He suffers so prettily."_

_But anyway, I feel so sad now that the story has finally ended. Those of you who have been saving reviews until the end or just plain haven't, I would _**love**_ to hear from you. I'd like to know what you thought, why you stuck with the story until the end (because not many people actually did...), or even why you hated it._

_And not like I'm hinting or anything, but I think maybe I'm going to indulge myself and possibly write this final chapter from Michiko's POV, too. wink, wink, nudge, nudge_


	16. The Final Chapter Michiko's POV

_So, here is the promised Michiko's Perspective piece. After this, there is nothing more, nothing at all. But yeah, this made me very happy and proud and sad at the same time... so I don't really know what to say - except, I hope you enjoyed this overly long escapade, and I love you for sticking with me until the end!_

* * *

The Final Chapter - Michiko's POV

"What the hells do you two think you're doing?" she demanded. Honestly. They were like children; leave them alone for a while and they started to bicker amongst themselves and beat the snot out of each other.

She sorely wished she could observe the brief expressions of panic she was sure flitted over their non-corporeal faces, but it couldn't be helped. It made her scowl deepen, which was only augmented when she barely heard one of them whisper to the other. It must have been Deidara, because she didn't pick up any accompanying thoughts. Sure enough, there was a spike when said other responded, which meant neither of them wanted her to hear what they had to say.

"Well?" she added, stopping not too far from where she'd heard the whisperings. "I'm still _waiting_ for an_ answer_." The silence she received made her set her mouth into a slight frown.

"Um, just… settling something, finally," Itachi muttered. Finally was right! At least she'd _finally_ gotten an answer, though it was hardly understandable. She tried reaching into his mind to get some more information, but he was steadfastly blocking her normal entrance. And her backdoor. Ah well, it didn't really matter; she could guess what they were up to.

"This 'something' wouldn't have anything to do with me, now would it?" she inquired with acid politeness. She knew from the off feeling she was getting she'd be here for a while, so she relaxed and carried her weight on one leg, naturally causing her opposite hip to jut out slightly.

She wasn't quite as upset about this new silence as the last, but only because she could tell it was a hesitation, not an escape attempt. When Itachi actually responded it sounded more like he was asking her approval on the subject instead of telling her about it. That was probably because he guessed she already knew what he was going to say and not actually looking for new information.

"Um, actually, it kind of sort of maybe does…?"

The confirmation still made her sigh. Why was it so hard to get a simple answer from him?

'Because he doesn't know he's being difficult,' Jurag interrupted. He can't help it: he's just a guy.'

'So are you," she retorted incredulously.

'Yes, but he's _human_.' She admired his ability to give the word "human" the same inflection as "cockroach".

'You make a valid point,' she conceded, if a little ungraciously. 'But my point is _I didn't ask for your input_.'

'Temper, temper,' he muttered as he backed off. 'Watch out it doesn't affect your judgment.'

More than exasperated with the other demon voice in her head, Michiko turned her attention back to Itachi, who felt like he was waiting for her to respond. "And why am I just now finding out?" She leaned back slightly and crossed her arms, settling in to her position.

"Um… because we didn't want to bother you?"

"Really, it wouldn't have been a bother," she informed him brusquely. The excuses they came up with…! "What is it you wanted to settle?" She was getting tired of his delayed responses that started uniformly with "um", and started tapping her foot impatiently. If he said "um" one more time…

"Um… – "

Michiko was about to lash out at him when both of them were interrupted by Deidara's muted interjection:

"Which of us do you prefer? Who do you actually love?"

Finally, a solid response! Albeit, a stupid question, but at least there wasn't anything hidden in it. She gave him a quizzical glance and answered.

"Itachi."

Even she was a little surprised at the amount of "duh" in her tone, but it didn't come as much of a shock.

Surely he had known that, right? After Itachi had come back there had been no question of what would happen, had there? He had to have realized she would go back to Itachi, without a doubt. Wait… He must have known Itachi was back before she did, because Leader liked to discuss that sort of stuff with everyone. Except he had not thought to invite her to tag along because he probably knew even then that she would no longer need him if Itachi returned. So he had purposefully kept her from finding out.

"…But…" he mumbled, sounding racked with pain. "But you said you loved me…?"

"I recall no such thing," she snapped, now upset that he would have kept such vital information from her. And technically that was the truth, but –

Her thought was interrupted when she felt a sudden tingle around her neck and back, and probed to find Itachi behind her, hugging her neck subserviently.

'I knew you'd pick me,' he told her triumphantly. 'I know you love me.'

"But it was implied…" Deidara mumbled, interrupting her when she was about to respond to Itachi. His "but" complex was beginning to annoy her as much as Itachi's "um" addiction.

"Key word there being 'lied'," she retorted.

"But you loved me…" he insisted morosely. "It was you, and me, and I love you, and you loved me…"

She was about to say something to clear that up when Itachi interrupted her.

'I think he gets it, Mich.'

'What makes you say that?'

'He's using the past tense.'

She hadn't noticed that, but she wasn't about to tell him. 'So? Obviously he doesn't get it, or he would have shut up by now!' She didn't leave him alone, but she didn't go quite as hard on him as she could have.

"Not really. It wasn't really… _real_ love. It was more like… physical love."

'_Physical_ love?' Itachi demanded, frowning at her mentally.

'What? Did you expect me to outright lie? Because it was physical, if you want a detailed description –'

'No, no, that's okay,' he grumbled quickly. 'I just didn't expect you to have moved on so immediately after my death…'

'Not now,' she snapped back at him. 'This conversation right now is about making sure Deidara knows there is no longer a triangle for him to be a part of.'

"No it wasn't," the aforementioned grumbled at her. "It was real. But the second _he_ came back, it wasn't there anymore. I just woke up and you were gone…"

"Deidara, exactly what is it that you're not getting about this?" she asked with the aim of making sure he knew he was being stupid. "You only ever even got a chance to think that because Itachi was dead."

He seemed to accept this, because he didn't say anything. Michiko was just turning to smirk victoriously at Itachi when he dashed that hope with a strangled mutter.

"It did… It felt so real…"

'…Is he… talking to himself?' Michiko asked cautiously, as if he could have hear her.

'I don't think so…' Itachi mused.

"It wasn't," she informed him crisply. "I was just venting my romantic frustrations on you. Because Itachi was dead. I needed _some_body…"

And she _had_ needed somebody. How else was she supposed to explain that without confusing the issue? Because she _had_ loved him, however briefly, and had continued to do so. The real problem wasn't that she didn't love him, just that she loved Itachi more. But could she have communicated that without giving him some sort of strangled hope? _No._ He was like some sort of puppy that continued to love her no matter how hard and often she kicked it, wagging its tail brokenly and staring up at her with its sad little heartfelt puppy eyes. It would have been cruel to give him hope and then have to kick him down again.

"But the reason Itachi died…" he burbled. "Before he was dead, you kissed me. _Me_. And you _loved_ me."

Ah, she was caught there. But why had that happened in the first place? Michiko quested around her mind, searching for the answer. How could she stretch the truth to fit the lie she'd created for him…?

"Again, Deidara; venting. I was just pissed about…" she faked a thoughtful pause and tilted her head back, shivering when the tingle enveloped her face. "What was it again?"

"I don't remember," Itachi replied offhandedly.

"Well, anyway, I was just pissed. It wasn't really something _real_… It was more of a fuck-off kiss." Which was half true. She _had_ been pissed, about… something… And it _had_ been a fuck-off kiss. But it had been real, too. Just not real enough.

"…You were telling me to fuck off?" He sounded so hopelessly confused she could have laughed.

"No, I was telling Itachi to fuck off."

"So… you _wanted_ him to walk in on us…?"

She winced on the inside. "Us" implied a package, some sort of couple-ness. "Let's not use the term 'us', but yes. You see, it was more to incite an argument. We seem to come together best after an argument… But then _some_body just _had _to go off and _kill_ himself!"

It was true; arguments were good for them. For one thing, after all their arguments they always had to do a lot of making up. A lot of _good_ making up.

"I don't see why I should have to apologize," Itachi muttered mutinously. "I mean, how was I supposed to know you were just taunting me? I have to admit it looked pretty real from my perspective, too."

Michiko wilted. "But how could you even _think_ that could have been real?" she asked defensively.

"…Um, you're a good actress?"

"Thanks, but flattery will get you nowhere," she scolded, laughing at him.

"…So I was just a point of conflict?" Deidara asked, insinuating himself back into the conversation.

Michiko sighed; this was getting too deep. She was afraid she would get her facts mixed up somewhere and the whole thing would be up, cat out of the bag, no holds barred. "Yeah, pretty much. Although I'd be lying if I said I hadn't enjoyed it tremendously. I mean, kudos to you, but still, most of that came from the thrill."

"The _thrill?_" She held back a small laugh when both of them demanded this of her, except Itachi bypassed her ears and went straight into her mind.

"Well, yes," she lied in answer to them both. "Most of my participation came from my knowing that I was successfully luring you into a position of complacent feeding."

She could have laughed at herself. Psh, feeding? That had been part of it, but what had the actual _thrill_ come from? Well, it hadn't been the blood. …Why the hells did he have to be such a damn good kisser? Something about the way he handled her that made her want to try and outdo his performance…

He still hadn't responded. She sneered at him. "Shall I use small words, so even _you_ can understand? I just wanted you to _think_ you were getting something out of it, because I just wanted someone I could feed off of without complaining. And _now_ I have to go back to the rabbits, thanks to you two."

She was, indeed, a good liar. The trick was always weaving a lesser fact into it, which made it more believable. Like she _was_ mad about the rabbits, but as long as she had added something that even _seemed_ like a lesser fact it would have been okay.

"It could have been anyone," he muttered after a pause. He was trying to sound indifferent, but instead he came across as broken. It made her want to hug him, except that wouldn't have been a good idea at that point.

"Not necessarily," she consoled. Then she realized she sounded too nice and went on. "You made the most inviting target because I didn't know of anyone else who was so hopelessly infatuated with me I already had him wrapped around my finger. I didn't think anyone else would trip over himself just to be devoured."

"…But –"

Argh, she had softened up on him too much in the last argument! She had given him hope! Again! Dammit, how mean could she get, lifting him up a little only to get him to a state in which he required more tearing down?

"Deidara, what part of this do you not understand?!" she demanded, forcing anger into her tone when she really wanted to cry with frustration. "I don't _love_ you! I _never loved_ you!" she lied, jumping from one thought to the next like someone leapfrogging across small stones set in lava that sank if they were stood on too long. "You were my toy, something to amuse me! You were my emotional punching bag, except you enjoyed the punches!"

'Michiko, I think he gets it now…' Jurag noted carefully, failing to interrupt her.

"Itachi died and I needed a substitute, and you were closest thing I could get! Of course my feelings were taken into account, because once he was back all the dynamics changed! I didn't need you anymore, and what was that whole mature thing you had about backing off?!"

'Michiko, Michiko stop, you're hurting him…'

"Was that some sort of diversion and you were plotting something all along?! I actually liked you for a while there, when you were being… _normal_, and I liked talking to you! I thought you were my friend, like my best friend!"

'Michiko…!'

"And then you _ruin it!_ I don't even wanna be your _friend_ anymore, you screw _everything_ up!" She was actually having to consciously keep herself from crying at this point, she hated herself so much. "Why don't you just _disappear?!_"

The silence that followed was hollow, because she was beating herself inside her head.

_Why did you let it escalate? Why did you let it get to this point, when you had to thoroughly destroy him? Little whore, leading him on all this time until you couldn't take it anymore, and then killing all semblance of hope he had left. So easily swayed, nothing would have happened if you had just stayed with him._

_But I didn't think about it. Both of them loved me I didn't want to have to _pick…_ And then when I had to it was too late to have anything left, no vestige of friendship, even…_

'Michiko, Michiko quick say something, say you didn't mean it say _something_!' Jurag exclaimed, sounding more than a little panicked.

'Why…?' she whined, reluctantly pulling herself a short ways away from her self-induced hate/misery.

'Michiko he's _going_, he's _going_…!"

'Good,' she grunted over mental tears. 'I don't wanna have to hurt him again.'

'Michiko! Michiko he's… gone,' he added bitterly.

She noticed something off about his reaction. Everything would be less complicated and thus easier for Jurag, so why did he sound like he hated her, too?

'…What do you mean?'

'He's _faded_, Michiko. _Gone_. Rubbed out like an old sketch with a new eraser. He did what you suggested: he _disappeared_.' He wouldn't say anything else.

She paused. She had already been paused before, but now she put her _life_ on hold.

_What? …What…?_

Itachi brought her back.

"That was harsh," he murmured in her ear. It seemed like he was going to add something, but by this point Michiko had lost the control to keep up the barrier around her mind that kept him from having access to her surface thoughts, and they were all spilling out.

"It's not your fault," he assured her, hugging her closer.

"Yes it is," she returned, the first tear making its staggered way down the curves of her face. "I could have fixed this before it even started," she sobbed, turning in his immaterial embrace and crying into him as he became slightly more solid, just for her. So she could cry into the hollow where his neck met his shoulder, like she had before he died.

"Michiko, he was already more than a little unstable," he insisted quietly, holding her more tightly than before, as hard as he could without pulling her straight into him.

"It's all my fault," she whispered, more to herself than him. "Such a horrible person…"


End file.
